The Midnight Ghost
by Severus T Snape
Summary: Severus Snape has a collection of roses and needs more. Eight-year-old Harry has been locked in his cupboard... and this time forgotten.
1. Chapter 1

**THE MIDNIGHT GHOST**

**A/N**

This is my very first own story, written after a german short story, called "Harry und der Mitternachtsgeist" posted by AmagicRickman. _(Thank you!)_

I want to give a BIG _"Thank you_" to my beta Breanna Tala, who did a great job helping me. Without her, I would not be able to post this story!

Warning: Dursley's are abusive - be warned - if you like nice Dursley's, better not read this Story! (That's why the Story is rated T... )

Oh Yeah, and the Harry-Potter-World is not mine. I'm just playing around with it!

- . -

**Chapter 1**

Light tickled through a little crack in the wooden door, but it wasn't enough to lighten the tiny room under the stairs. It was not a big room - just big enough to fit a little thin mattress under the lower part by the stairs and a shelf on the other side.

On the mattress, on the very far corner and directly under the stairs, lay a small body curled up into a ball - knees to its chest – sleeping.

- . -

The house was silent, everybody still asleep.

- . -

When the sun shone through the cracks in the door and the wood had a golden shimmer, the little thin body moved slowly and sluggishly came to life. The sleep faded, and so did the dream: a warm summer dream of freedom and happiness. The skinny little boy got up from his bed, stretched his stiff body and shivered in the cool air. He barely could move. Long red cuts, some open and some half healed, crisscrossed his back. Blue and green bruises coloured his shoulders and on one side of his neck was a yellow stripe.

He pulled fresh underwear and a shirt out of the lower shelf and dressed in oversized, baggy jeans. His grey socks had a hole on the left big toe, so he pulled the socks of and switched them, so his little toe on his right foot had the hole. With careful precision, he turned to cover the mattress with the light blue blanket he slept with. Right next to his bed, next to the wall and on a carton box were his glasses. He grabbed them and put them on his nose. Silently, he opened the now-golden-looking door - just a crack, so it won't make any noise, slid into the hallway and closed the hidden cupboard door.

- . -

Still everybody else was sound asleep.

- . –

Light from the morning sun shined through the window directly across the door like and made the air in the hallway look as like a golden stream. An icy film lay on the outside glass, just melting by the sudden warmth of the winter light. The little boy gave a silent, "Good morning," to a black spider on the top left corner of the window, which looked golden, too. He made his way to the small guest bathroom on the other side of the stairs.

He used the bathroom, brushed his teeth, cleaned his face and hands with cold water – since he was not allowed to use warm water – and combed his hair. On the day before, there was a hole of missing hair right above his right ear. Now, there wasn't a hole anymore – the messy hair had grown back and covered his head like a fur cap.

Slowly, he put the comb back to its place on the white wooden shelf right underneath the mirror and watched his own movements in the glass. Very carefully he touched the spot where the missing hair used to be; it felt sore. When he looked up, there were tears in his emerald green eyes, aware of the pain. Before it could overwhelm him, he pulled himself out of the memory and wiped his tears away. He touched the glass again and carefully caressed his reflection in the mirror. "We'll be strong," he whispered silently to himself.

- . -

When he closed the bathroom door and headed to the kitchen, the house no longer had the golden hue to it. Without making any one noise, he started cooking and setting the breakfast table. Just a little before he was done cooking the milky porridge and toast, his Aunt Petunia came into the kitchen. "Harry…" she said, as she got herself a cup of tea and sat down at the table to get her breakfast.

Dudley suddenly slammed the door open as he ran into the kitchen. Harry was slow to react when his cousin jumped over the chair and crashed into him, slamming Harry against the hot and heavy stove. He couldn't remember Dudley ever moving so fast before – sure, he loved to be loud – but not fast. The impact made him hit his chin on the corner of the stove, burning the right side of his face before he slid down to the floor in enormous pain, Dudley on his back. Tears were immediately ran down his face. But all Dudley did was pick himself up and grinned. To make it worse he patted Harry on his painful shoulders.

"Thanks, Dude, for the soft fall," Dudley said and sat next to his mother at the table where he poured himself a glass of juice. Petunia rose and grabbed Harry hard by the top of his arm. She jerked him back and shook him a little. "Stop this fussing immediately! You are not a baby anymore! I can't stand this crying attitude. No wonder no one wanted you. Go back to your cupboard and just stay there!"

Dudley grinned at him. "Mom, don't forget to pack me some good candy. Remember, my class is going to this special surprise field trip today and I want a good place in the bus!" Petunia smiled at Dudley, let go of Harry and went to the counter to get the lunch bags ready. Dudley whispered to Harry: "I guess you can't go?" He snickered silently and pushed Harry rudely through the door.

Just after Harry got to his cupboard, Vernon came down the stairs. Without even one look in his nephew's direction, he turned towards the kitchen where he grunted "Good morning, shit weather" before sitting down and shovelling his breakfast into his big mouth.

- . -

In the cupboard, Harry laid himself on the cold floor his red, burned face down, silently sobbing. Tears were falling from his eyes as he wished his Mom and Dad had taken him along to wherever they had gone. With his fingers, he traced the folds of the light green bedspread covering the rugged mattress.

Slowly his eyes went shut and he fell into an exhausted sleep. He did not hear Uncle Vernon lock the cupboard and him and leave with Dudley, nor did he hear Aunt Petunia when she left the house later on to go shopping and meet with her giggling girlfriends in the city. He did not notice the weather change during the day with heavy clouds slowly covering the sky. By late afternoon the sun had disappeared and the sky had turned into a depressing, dark grey.

Aunt Petunia arrived humming a new tune, carrying bags and boxes filled with all kinds of fancy trinkets. Singing, she turned the lights on in the now-dark house. In the kitchen, she started cooking dinner for just Vernon and herself, because Dudley would be staying overnight at Pier's. Shortly, a thought of the surprise field trip came into her mind, but because Dudley was absent to babble about it, she only wondered what stories he would tell tomorrow. Any thought about Harry in the cupboard, lying there in pain, never crossed her mind. She had completely forgotten about him.


	2. Chapter 2

**THE MIDNIGHT GHOST**

**A/N**

I want to give a BIG _Thank you_ to my beta Breanna Tala, who did a great job helping me. Without her, I would not be able to post this story!

Always be aware that Harry is living with the Dursley's and they're not nice people! This Story is rated "T" for a reason!

The world of Harry Potter does not belong to me...

- . -

**Chapter 2**

Harry woke up with a pounding headache. He wasn't hungry, but he was very thirsty. He got up slowly and went to open the door, expecting it to open like it always did, but the door was locked. He laid both hands desperately on the wooden door and rested his throbbing head on them. "Please," he whispered. "Please open!" But the door stayed shut. He started to pat the surface a little, as though knocking, but nobody answered_. If breakfast is not done in the morning, I'll be dead! _he thought. He laid his forehead on the wood and sighed. _ I'll be dead! _ Letting himself fall back onto the mattress, he sat there in the dark with his legs against his chest, head on his knees and hugging them with his arms.

Silence.

Suddenly, he heard a silent "pop". It was not loud enough for him to pick up his head, but the voice, which suddenly talked to him, was. "Oh, excuse me, I didn't want to disturb you, but do you, by any chance, own a light?" Harry jerked up so fast that he bumped his head on the low ceiling. He stared at the shimmering figure in front of him.

"What?" He must have fallen asleep and started dreaming; this couldn't be a real ghost, could it?

"Oh, excuse me," the shimmering ghost repeated politely. "I was wondering if you might have some light. See, I feel very uncomfortable in the dark."

"You're ghost!" Harry blurted out. _ No way, _ he thought _there are no ghost's, are there? _

"No," said the Ghost, "I'm Sir Frederick van der Steig, I'm no ghost." Proudly, he pushed his chest out. "I'm a pirate!" He suddenly had a shimmering sword in his left hand and swung it up and down, left and right. Through his swinging, a glittery tail followed his movements.

"Yeah," said Harry. _Right. _ he thought, and proudly said, "I'm Harry James Potter." The sword disappeared and Sir Frederick held out his left hand to Harry.

"Good evening, Mr. Potter," he said. Harry slowly lifted his right hand for the handshake. When he touched the surface of the glittering hand, he felt a warm and cosy tickling. He couldn't feel anything, but he noticed his hand covered with a glittery shimmer.

"Good evening, Sir van der Steig," he said.

"Oh, call me Sir Frederick," the ghost said.

"Thanks, you can call me Harry."

"Well, Harry," Sir Frederick looked around. "It looks very tight in here. And dark."

"Yes it is." Harry sighed. "I don't have a light. The only light in here is from you. My uncle took mine."

"Why did he do that?"

Harry sat back down, not even realizing he had been standing.

He pulled his knees back up, laid his arms on them, and rested his chin on the arms. "I was making breakfast, like I always do, and Dudley, my cousin, went outside. Maybe to check the weather?" he sighed. "Anyway, he locked himself out and rang the doorbell to get back in the house. I didn't want my aunt and uncle disturbed, so I went to open the door and forgot the food on the stove. When I came back, the milk overcooked and the porridge was burned. So were the eggs and the bacon." His voice became harder to hear until it was almost a whispering. "I got punished. My uncle gave me a beating and took my light."

"I'm sorry." The ghost patted Harry on his head and glitter fell softly down around him. Harry felt a warm tickle on his head and his headache seemed gone.

"Don't be, it's all right," he said. Sir Frederick sat himself down in front of Harry, his hand moved towards Harry's head and touched, tickling, Harry's burnt side of face. The burn suddenly didn't hurt anymore.

"What happened here?" Harry told him of the morning when Dudley came racing into the kitchen. He leaned into the soft and glittering tickling of Sir Frederick's hand. _ A dream _ Harry thought. _Just a dream. _

- . -

"Harry?" A soft voice was calling his name. Harry opened his eyes. Did he fall asleep? He must be still dreaming, since Sir Frederick was still there. _ Maybe I'm in Nirvana, _ he thought. Piers was telling Dudley about Nirvana a while ago. But he also said you only get there if you smoked. Harry didn't smoke at all. Could he have taken a shortcut without smoking?

Sir Frederick was still sitting in front of him. "I have to leave soon." Sir Frederick pulled on a small chain on his vest. On the end of his chain was a small golden watch, whose top snapped open when he pressed a little button on the front. "It's almost 2 a.m." Harry wanted to grab Sir Frederick's arm, but his hand went right through.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled absently when Sir Frederick looked up surprised and curious at Harry. "But," Harry didn't want to sound whiny, "I wish you could stay."

"Sorry, kid," Sir Frederick closed his watch with a snap and placed it back in his chest pocket. "I have to return to my stone. But, I guess, you could come along." He looked absent, like he was thinking. Harry stared at the ghost.

"Come along?" he repeated slowly. Then he got exited. "Yes, please, I would love to come along." But suddenly, his face had a dismal quality to it again. "But how could I leave? My door is locked." Sir Frederick started laughing.

"Oh, don't worry," he grinned. Harry just watched him. Sir Frederick stood in front of the cupboard door and lightly blew on it. The sides of the door started to glow in silver, glittering light. But only for a couple of seconds, and then it was dark again. "Well, Harry," he turned around to face Harry, "let's go. Just push the door open. I'll meet you on the other side." And he just vanished with a silent "pop".

Harry was left standing there in the dark. _Do I really want to go? _He had forgotten to ask Sir Frederick how to get back and where exactly he was going. He needed to be back in the morning to make breakfast for the family. He grabbed a dark blue sweater from the bottom shelf and pulled it on_. It's just_ _a dream anyway _he thought as he pushed the door open and stepped through.

- . -

Please Review! Please Remember, this is my very first story.


	3. Chapter 3

**THE MIDNIGHT GHOST**

**A/N**

I want to give a BIG _Thank you_ to my beta Breanna Tala, who did a great job helping me. Without her, I would not be able to post this story!

Warning: Always be aware that Harry was living with the Dursley's and they were not nice people! This Story is rated "T" for a reason!

The world of Harry Potter does not belong to me...

THANK YOU to all the reviewer's! This is my very first story, and I really appreciate every review! Without you guys, I wouldn't bother writing this story! _Thank you so much!_

**Chapter 3**

Harry stepped through the door and was not in the hallway of the Dursley house; he instead had strolled onto a little square spot of field. He could feel the stiff and icy grass cracking under the holey thin shoes he wore – Dudley's old sneakers.

It was dark and cold. He wanted to go back through the door, to get a warmer sweater or, even better, a jacket, but when he turned around he only saw the dark shades of stones in rows before and behind him. Even next to him, on both sides. Cold and black and huge stones, as far the eye could see. The door was gone, too.

He span around several times, but nothing changed. (It's his hope for the possibility to have missed something, maybe a grown up or something! It's the view, not his eyes) He suddenly felt so lonely and cold. More lonely than he had ever felt at the Dursley's. Where was his door? He started to feel full of despair.

But wait – there were little lights – red lights shining through the dark night. He looked up, but he could not see any stars nor the moon. Not far from him was a little church stretching its tall steeple into the cloudy night sky. It was silent.

There were naked trees and bushes, scattered, with the occasional big cross made of stone around him, with the occasional big cross made of stone. The ground was white from ice; it looked like a blanket lay over the stones, showing no footprints or other signs of life around. Now he knew were he was. A graveyard. Sir Frederick had taken him home. _Will I find my Mom and Dad here? _

"Boo!" Harry jumped and jerked his head around. Right next to his left ear was Sir Frederick silently laughing. "Did I scare you?" he asked.

"Nah," Harry replied and grinned, relived.

"You're scared?" Sir Frederick looked at Harry closely.

"Maybe just a little."

"Why?" Sir Frederick shook his head and whispered in Harry's ear: "Are you afraid of running into a ghost?" He started laughing loudly. It sounded like thousands were laughing; the whole graveyard echoed back. It didn't scare Harry, but it didn't make him feel safe either. "No, of course not," he replied uncomfortably. To play over his uneasiness, he asked Sir Frederick about his gravestone. "Over there." Sir Frederick pointed in the direction of a stone on the left about two rows back, with a good view, on the back side of the chapel. The whole chapel was framed by a circle of evergreen trees.

"Come on, step over." Sir Frederick made an inviting hand movement towards his gravestone. Harry followed him to the stone. "Have a seat." he urged. Sir Frederick placed himself on top of the gravestone, swinging his feet back and forth. His heals melted into the stone whenever they hit the surface. It looked very funny, and Harry snickered silently to himself. While Harry's sight was glued to the phenomenon of disappearing and reappearing feet, he sat himself down on a dry and non-icy spot of dirt, half underneath a small bush.

"How long have you been here?" he asked, still watching Sir Frederick. The ghost pointed to the front of the black stone. In white and gold letters, Harry read:

**Sir Frederick Severin van der Steig**

Born January 1537 in York - Died 1596 on Sea in Battle

*Pirate*

Underneath was a picture painted of a skull. It looked very ghostly, and Harry shivered a little. To him, the design looked scary. "You see," Sir Frederick, he said proudly, swinging his sword again, "I was Captain of a big pirate ship, the _Mary Grace_."

"And you fought in a battle?"

"In many." He was quiet for awhile, thinking. "The greatest was the battle of _"Lepento"_ in 1571. I was in the crew from Don John. He was the half brother of Phillip II, King of Spain. Don and I – we were very good friends. Don died seven years later, while I …" he broke off and Harry saw the sad face and instinctively sought to change the subject. He wasn't too bad in history, but not great either.

"You said you were a pirate. Did you know Barbarossa, too?" Sir Frederick looked at him a little strange.

"I was born in the crew of Barbarossa," he said. "Kheir-Ed-Din; that is his real name. When I was six, I had to work on the ship to feed myself. He died when I was nine. I stayed with his old crew and a new Captain until I was 13, then I started to work for others. I sailed with many great captains."

"How did you become a pirate?" Harry really wanted to know.

"Well, Harry, when I was 25 years old, I met a man named John Hawkins. He was a business man, with a great business in mind. He got himself a ship and a crew to sail to Africa. He stole and bought people there, young and strong men and women – also children. He took them to Spain and sold them as slaves for lots of gold. I went along to work for him. The trip was horrible for the slaves. Many died of hunger and thirst, and abuse. You must know, Harry, Mr Hawkins was no nice guy. He was very avaricious. He got gold, lots of it—"

"Didn't you feel sorry for all those people?" Harry asked, dismayed.

"Wait and listen! When I was 31 years old, I went with him again. He had three ships, full with slaves. Me and a very trustful friend of mine were the captains on two of his ships and during an Atlantic storm, we captured both those ships for ourselves. I took the _Mary__ Grace_ and my friend the _Phillippa_, named after the Spanish king." Sir Frederick started to smile, as he talked about how beautiful and big the Mary Grace was. "She was a great ship, the Mary Grace. She was built in 1526 and she was English, just like me. She was 102 feet long but weighed only 588 tons . . . She was actually a war ship and had 78 guns on board. We were a great team, the _Mary Grace_ and me . . ."

"What happened to the slaves? Did you sell them?" Harry was very curious. Sir Frederick was silent for awhile, as he relived memories of distant times. He still smiled, as if he hadn't heard Harry.

"We brought them back. Some stayed in the crew, though. After we came back to England, I met Don John and I went with him to battle. We stayed together until he died of typhoid. I was lucky, I guess. He had a wonderful fiancée, Queen Mary of Scots. He was a wonderful friend and a very charismatic leader. Everybody liked him and it was great to serve him. He would have liked you too."

"You… You really think so?" Harry was starting to get fidgety from excitement. _Someone would like me? _He pulled his knees up to his chest and laid his arms around them. He smiled_ Someone would like me!_

"Yes I do. You are very sweet, Harry. And you don't judge..." Sir Frederick trailed off, noticing Harry starting to shiver.

"Th… Thank y…you, Ss… Sirr Fr..eder..ick." Harry was listening so excitedly to the story, which was better then any story he'd ever heard, when he realized that his hands and feet were almost frozen. He tried to warm his hands between his legs and to pull the feet closer to his body. He felt his nose and cheeks were cold too.

"You're cold!" It was more a statement then a question. Harry nodded too cold to speak. "Wait, I have an idea – let's see if it works…" Sir Frederick got up from his stone and kneeled in front of Harry. "Give me your left hand." Harry held out the requested hand, palm up, out to the ghost. Sir Frederick laid his left hand on top of Harry's without touching it. He first moved his hand in circles. If it would have been a human hand, Harry would have felt the heat of the other hand. Now he only felt a light itching from the silvery glitter which fell from Sir Fredericks hand down to Harry's. Then Sir Frederick's hand moved up higher, almost at the same height of Harry's head. While he did this, he was mumbling something. Suddenly, Harry felt something in his hand. It felt like a warm tickle to Harry. Sir Frederick seemed done and moved his hand away. On Harry's palm lay a flower, surrounded by silver light. Sir Frederick put one finger on the flower and was whispering something, as speaking to the flower. Harry did not understand him. The flower grew solid, still shimmering. It was an ordinary flower bud, dark red like blood with silver lining on the top of the flower's leaves. Harry stared at this beautiful flower in his hand. "This," Sir Frederick said, "is the heart of the _Mary Grace_. If you get cold, just peel a leaf of and eat it. You won't be cold any longer." Harry very carefully peeled one leaf off. The inside of the leaf was mysteriously glittering. Like a silvery secret light.

"Thank you," Harry whispered and laid the leaf on his tongue. It tasted sweet.

"You're welcome." Sir Frederick was smiling a warm smile at Harry. "When you put it away, use this to hold it." With his finger, he touched Harry's throat and immediately, Harry felt something around his neck. It was a small dark-brown leather pouch. "Always carry it at the height of your heart. Closest to life." Harry very careful placed the flower bud in the pouch and let it rest directly on his skin, where his heart was. Harry smiled warmly at him.

"Where did you get it from?" Sir Frederick's smile broke into a wide grin. He let himself fall on his butt, and Sir Frederick was now sitting right across from Harry. He no longer showed the light, arrogant attitude.

"Queen Elizabeth gave it to me," he answered Harry's question.

"You met her, too?" Harry's eyes must be as big as Buick hup caps. _ Wow, _ he thought. _ I wish I could have been there to see it myself. _

"Yes, right before my last battle." Sir Frederick was looking at Harry as if he knew what the boy was thinking.

"When was that?" Harry wanted another story. No one ever told him a good one before, and this was more then good, this was a life story. Something real happened. In his fantasy, he saw Queen Elizabeth giving Sir Frederick the pouch with the rose in it. Everything that Sir Frederick was talking about, Harry saw it. It was as if he was taken into a different world.

"Hmm . . . well, that would be when I was in my 40's. I had tried to free the slaves from Spain to bring back to Africa. My crew, the Mary Grace, and me – we went on the Atlantic do just that. When I was 59 years old, though, I ran into a battle; I did not want to fight. It was June of 1596, a wonderful month. Unfortunately, I got stuck in the middle of the battle _"Raid on Cadiz"_ and my ship, my crew, and I lost our lives."

"I'm so sorry." Harry's emerald eyes looked so understanding and sad. If Sir Frederick could have, he would have hugged Harry. They sat across from each other, looking at the other in understandable silence.


	4. Chapter 4

**THE MIDNIGHT GHOST**

**A/N**

I want to give a **BIG **_**Thank you**_ to my beta Breanna Tala, who did a great job helping me. Without her, I would not be able to post this story!

Warning: Always be aware that Harry was living with the Dursley's and they were not nice people! This Story is rated "T" for a reason!

The world of Harry Potter does not belong to me, I wish it would – I would have given Severus a real life... Do I have to say this in every Chapter?

**THANK YOU** _**to all reviewer's! This is my very first story, and I really appreciate every review! Without you guys, I wouldn't bother writing this story! Thank you so much! You are making my day and the story to grow… **____** Actually I'd planed three Chapters – here's Chapter four and the End is not in sight… This Story seems to grow on its own…**_

**Chapter 4**

The bell on the little chapel steeple rang four times, waking them out of their trances.

"I have to leave." Sir Frederick's hand moved to the side of Harry's face, framing it as if he were to touch him. Harry felt the warm tickling on his cheeks again – actually, he felt this gesture more in his heart than on his face. It was a new feeling, one that it would take getting used to, to be comfortable with. A warmth spread through his heart and he knew he would always search for this touch.

"I promise," he heard Sir Frederick whispering, "I promise you, you'll find what you're searching for. I'll promise. I've given my life to you. You're safe, my darling, sweet child."

"Sir Frederick, is there any way to free you from being a ghost?" Sir Frederick was smiling, a silvery shimmering around him. He touched Harry's forehead with his lips, to kiss him. Harry felt the soft warm tickling and closed his eyes. "You just did." And with that, Sir Frederick vanished out of Harry's sight.

- . -

After a while, Harry opened his eyes again and realized that he was alone. Sir Frederick had disappeared. _He'll be back tomorrow_ he thought. He also noticed that it had started to snow. Thick white flakes fell from the sky, and laid a thick blanket over the icy chapel and all the stones and bushes; everywhere on the graveyard. As he was sitting there, watching the snowflakes cover everything, he suddenly realized that he was still there. He had completely forgotten to ask how he was supposed to return to the Dursley's! He had no clue which graveyard he was in – and there was no one to ask. _Oh, no, if I'm not back on time, I will get in so much trouble – he'll beat me to death!_ He felt full of despair. _ Oh no, what am I'm going to do, what am I doing?..._ he kept on thinking.

Suddenly, he felt really tired. Not cold, but tired. He also felt so strange... Not scared, but vulnerable. He moved back further into the bush, like a rabbit or a hedge hawk into hiding. Just to be more sheltered from this weather and the cold. He found that if he lay down, he could scoot further under the bush. He did and moved back until he hit the stem of the bush with his back. Pulling his arms under this head, he used them as a pillow as he moved his knees up to his chest. The naked twigs did not really cover him and he could look through them to see the sky. Before he could start feeling too lonely, his eyes closed again and he fell asleep.

*** - . - ***

The day was just depressive. Clouds were hanging down low and there was no sky to see. The children which the young professor was teaching were nervous and couldn't sit still nor listen. The clouds on the winter sky promised snow. The kids wanted snow so badly. They needed to play outside, building snow families and animals, joining the snow building contest, snow ball fights, snow tunnels and snow whatever. Throughout the entire afternoon, he could tell the children were making their plans for the long-awaited snow.

In his private dungeon laboratory of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_, _the young potions professor checked on his recipe for a new potion he was trying to invent: a potion to bring back the dead for at least an hour. "Shit," he grumbled. "The rose . . . where in the hell is that bloody rose." He kept on searching through his extensive collection of ingredients. "The rose…" he kept mumbling. "Ahhh, hmm, there. Now, let's try this one." He took a jar with dark red rosebuds and let one fall into the potion.

He could not leave the room fast enough to escape the explosion. "Damn!" he gasped when the cauldron shot into the air toward the ceiling like a rocket into the sky. From a safe distance, he quickly got his wand out and banished the liquid in the cauldron before it could cause any real damage – like falling on the table with all his ingredients on it, causing another explosion, or worse – falling on his own head…! He caught the empty, now cool, cauldron before it could shatter on the stone floor and set it back on the table.

"Again." He sighed. He started from the beginning, adding one ingredient after another until he needed the rose. Knowing he would have to do some researching, he used smooth but impatient movements and performed a time status spell over the potion. Then he started to pace the room.

He had tried so many roses, in all different colours, kinds and shades, what if he needed a special one, one that grows – well, where?

He thought about places where roses grew . . . well, in parks – nah, he had been in those. Also, private gardens. He had searched all summer long for different roses in parks and gardens – and not just in Great Britain. The botanic gardens – yeah, but he visited them already too, all over. And all the stores he had been to –but none of them had the right one. And to find one growing outside – in the middle of November – and a special one, at that– what kind of joke was that?

Maybe he was just not ready for this particular potion. _Damn! Maybe I should invent a potion for people being insane become normal instead, not the dead. That would be close enough. - The dead. _He sighed. He wanted the dead. He wanted them to be able to return to life, just for an hour, to finish up what's needed or to give them the chance to just say good-bye. Maybe they had secrets that needed to be told – he himself had had so many questions to his mother. Why, just, "Why?" he screamed, tearing at his hair, but he got no answer. She had died when he was just a teenager. Left him behind. Just died.

Death.

"Death!"

He stopped pacing in the middle of the room. The graveyard! He hasn't checked there yet. And people planted roses all the time for their loved ones who had passed away – of course! Why hasn't he thought of that one before?

He went back into his chambers to get ready for bed. It would make no sense to leave now - he wouldn't see anything in the dark anyway so he would probably miss one. He would go to the Hogsmeade graveyard in the early morning light.

He grabbed some paper bags to put the roses in and some small scissors, placing them in one of the inside pockets of his robe and hung it up by the door. When he passed the table in his dining area, he noticed the house elves had saved him some dinner. He was relived that they had placed a warming spell on the food. Quickly, he sat down and started to eat. His thoughts were absent – already going on the graveyard trip. He was surprised to find his plate empty. Did he eat everything already? Shaking his head in confusion, he got up and went to the bathroom to get ready for the night.

- . –

For a moment he stopped in the doorframe and was looking at his empty four poster bed. Once again, he realized how empty his life has been. Once again, he wished he had someone to love and someone to love him back. He missed the warm feeling in his heart, the knowledge that there was someone there, with him. Someone he could trust to understand.He felt a desperate sadness come over him, and once again he pushed these feelings of loneliness away from himself.

With a swish of his wand, he tuned off the light in the bathroom and crawled under the midnight blue satin covers. "Nox!" he growled and the darkness lied itself around him like a second blanket.

He tried to feel relieved and happy for the silence and quietness around him. But one ear was always listening for silent, rushing feet on the stone floor or a body moving next to him. Drifting off to sleep, he imagined having a child or a wife to say, "Good night," to. He hadn't realized he said it out loud, but in his dreaming mind, he heard a chuckling children's voice returning a "Good night," to him. One tear slid down his cheek without his knowledge – he was running away, into a warm and loving dream and away from his silent and lonely emptiness.


	5. Chapter 5

**THE MIDNIGHT GHOST**

**A/N**

I want to give a **BIG **_**Thank you**_ to my true beta Breanna Tala, who did a great job helping me. Without her, I would not be able to post this story!

Warning: Always be warned!

The world of Harry Potter does not belong to me…

**THANK YOU** _**to all reviewer's! This is my very first story, and I really appreciate every review! Without you guys, I wouldn't bother writing this story! Thank you so much! You are making my day and the story to grow… **__** Actually I'd planed three Chapters – here's Chapter five and the End is not in sight… This Story is growing on its own…**_

**Chapter 5**

It was cold – freezing cold – and still snowing. The little boy huddled under the small bush that was growing by the grave of Sir Frederick. Harry had rolled himself into a ball, holding his bony knees tightly embraced to his little body. With his back against the bush, the new fallen snow used to hold the cold off his back. No thoughts came into his mind. In the early morning, Harry hat eaten another leave of the "Flower of Life", as he was getting cold again.

Now, the sun was threatening to rise, and he knew in his heart without thinking about it, that he normally would have started breakfast about half an hour ago.

His eyes were open but he did not see.

Around him was snow, freshly fallen. Ice. Naked dark bushes and trees in between black gravestones. Dark shadows made everything look bigger, larger and scarier.

The dark night sky had disappeared and the morning light was coming up slowly, as if it wouldn't want to come at all. The clouds were hanging low, and it was still snowing lightly. Big, long icicles were hanging from the dark door and windows at the small church, looking like swords aiming for his little heart. He didn't feel the cold. He was just waiting - waiting for Sir Frederick to come back. His eyes closed slowly and his body became numb.

Silently, he opened his little heart to be taken - to a maybe-better world.

***.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.***

**A/N**

I know this Chapter is very short. I promise, it's the shortest in the whole story and the next ones will be longer! This _is_ suppose to be a depressing Chapter!


	6. Chapter 6

**THE MIDNIGHT GHOST**

**A/N****:**

**Because of technical Problems, I had to delete Chapter 6 again after I put it up. I'll try to repost it today and I hope you're not too mad at me - or confused... ;)  
**

**_Please be patient_****:** I will be leaving the country for two weeks, so the 7th Chapter will come when I'm back. So far, I'm planning for 17 Chapters…This Story seems to grow on it's own. I will use the time I'm gone to be creative. Thank you so much for all your reviews! I really, really appreciate them – you have no clue how value one review is… You keep it up – so will I. I hope you will all like this Chapter and I see you again in two weeks!_ Vin_

I want to give a **BIG _Thank you_** to my true beta Breanna Tala, who did a great job helping me. Without her, I would not be able to post this story!

**THANK YOU** **_to all reviewers'! This is my very first story, and I really appreciate every review! Without you guys, I wouldn't bother writing this story! Thank you so much! You are making my day and the story to grow… _**

_**x.x.x.x.x.x  
**_

_**xx**__**xxx**__**xxx**_

**Chapter 6**

Professor Severus Snape arrived in the graveyard mid morning. This was his third graveyard and he was in a very good mood. He had really found some roses – frozen, but still very pretty. He hoped to find more and that at least one of them would be the right one. He did not know which graveyard this was; he had taken the ones into the south west from the last one, so he would move in a section. All he knew was if he would go more west, he would end up in Spinner's End. Maybe, he would just go there, spend the night and go back to Hogsmeade in a different section the next morning.

This graveyard was different from the others he'd been to. The rows were longer and the gravestones were all black; all the same in every direction. Not far from him was a little church with a tall steeple. The graveyard was silent and the ground was white from snow. Except for a couple of bird prints, there were no footprints or any other sign of life and the snowing had slowed to a few flakes once in awhile_. _The professor went along the rows, leaving footprints in the freshly fallen snow. He checked each grave for a new rose, but soon realized the snow had covered up the most plants, so he sighed and walked up to the little chapel. Walking around the evergreens, he checked the graves which were more sheltered from the wind and weather. He did find some roses in between the evergreens, but he really wasn't successful.

He was standing on a grave which had a very beautiful dark pink rosebush growing behind. He reached for a twig to cut it off and to put it in one of his paper bags, when his eyes caught on something under a different bush standing next to him. It was a small child, sleeping.

He blinked, wondering if he was hallucinating. _'Children do not sleep under bushes in the graveyard in the middle of winter, do they?'_ He had been sure no one was there, and when he looked again, he still didn't see anyone – so why was there a child sleeping here? And whose was it?

Shaking his head in wonder, the professor kneeled down in the snow next to the bony body. The child didn't seem to be moving, and he prayed he wasn't dead. Not knowing if he wanted to find out, Severus laid his hands on the skinny shoulder and gave it a little shake. "Hey, there, little one?" he asked softly. When the boy didn't move, Severus moved his chin gently out of the way and felt for a pulse. Finding one, Severus moved his hand to the little child's head, petting his hair softly as he thought of what to do next. The boy had a pulse, but he still didn't look as if he was breathing. He didn't really think of using magic on this child right now. Feeling a little unsure how it would affect the boy, the little one seamed so young. He wasn't a medi-wizard and he was not sure if his spells would harm the boy more than do him good.

Trying really hard to remember the first aid training he had to go through when he started teaching, he focused on the found pulse instead.

Still trying to understand, he moved his head back a bit to check the closest gravestone – which was from 1842 – and guessed that no one had died yesterday or a few days before.

Suddenly, he had an idea. He licked his own forefinger with his tongue and held the now-wet finger under the child's nose. He could feel the coolness coming from the nose – he could now feel the softly breathing. "Thank Merlin!" he said, more to himself. He then reached down to pick up the small creature and sat back on his heels. Now he could feel the almost-quiet heartbeat. Pulling the child closer to him on his lap, he held him in one arm like a mother would hold a baby. With the other hand, he covered him in his thick winter cloak. Then, he very carefully got up from the icy ground. His lower legs had almost fallen asleep…

He looked at the child more closely. He noticed pale red lips and long black eyelashes, the pale face and the little nose. His face looked so familiar, but he could not place it. He also discovered the burn on the child's face. _'Oh, my, that doesn't look too good. I wonder what happened there…'_ He felt sorry for the child and a warm feeling spread though his body. Touching the boy's forehead of finding his skin cold, he brushed away the hair on the child's forehead. His sight fell on the lightning bolt shaped scar.

In total horror, he said, "Harry Potter!" _'That can't be!'_ was the only thought that had room in his head.

He almost dropped the child!

He felt disappointment run through his body. This child should be with his loving relatives, getting ready for Christmas; not here in the icy cold – he felt completely confused. _'What is going on here?'_ he thought.

He looked down at the child again in his arms, and realized Harry looking at him with big emerald green eyes. Now he knew why this face looked so familiar. Lily's eyes. He was looking in Lily's eyes. He felt completely lost. It seemed those eyes were begging him, but also as if they knew – knew everything. They looked so alive, as if the child could see through Severus' eyes into his soul, and very carefully touch his heart and lightly caress it. Longing, Severus remembered the feelings he had had for Lily and how much he wanted a child of his own. And then he heard it. It wasn't a question; it sounded more like a relief, a realization: "Dad." Severus wasn't even shocked. He had wished to hear it so often in his lonely times – some children he had met in his classes were so special to him, he had wished sometimes they were his. No, he wasn't surprised; he wasn't even surprised to hear it from Harry Potter! It was so unreal – "Yes," he whispered back. He felt Harry's cold hand on his cheek, softly touching, as wiping tears away.

"I found you," Harry whispered so silently Severus almost missed it. The pale lips almost not moving, he still felt so tired. Harry was one hundred percent sure he was dreaming. Severus loved this light touch of Harry's hand. He took the little hand in his big one and kissed it.

"We'll go home," he said and got a warm smile from Harry. But then, suddenly, the smile faded. "What?" Severus pulled one eye brow up in question.

"I can't go anywhere," said the child silently.

"Why?" _'Why can't he leave?' _he thought and the first time since finding Harry, he was wondering why Harry was on this graveyard – alone. Where were his relatives?

He did remember the night Albus placed the toddler on his family's doorstep in Surry. Actually, that night wasn't so long ago, maybe about seven years…

Harry smiled at Severus. He couldn't see much of this man, but he could see the man had black hair, just like his own, and he was keeping him warm. "I have to wait for Sir Frederick to come back," he said.

"Who is Sir Frederick?" Severus wondered now if this child was alright, or if there's something wrong with him.

"Sir Frederick is a pirate, with a great ship, the Mary Grace, and he visited me at the Dursley's, when they had locked me in, and brought me here to meet you and –" he started looking around as much as he could see "- and mom." He realised that he was still on the graveyard; it was still freezing cold and still snowing. The only difference was the daylight. And he also realized this man – Dad – was alone. He couldn't be with his parents. This just didn't look like heaven.

Severus didn't know what to say. He was completely lost for words.

Harry looked at him, the big green eyes full of tears. "My mom." He started to cry and was clinging to Severus' neck. "I want my Mommy."

"Oh my…" Severus sighed and hugged the little one closely. _'What in the world happened? What in the bloody hell went wrong here?'_

Harry laid his head on Severus's shoulder and was exhaustedly sobbing quietly. With the crying child on his hips Severus apparated to Spinner's End.


	7. Chapter 7

**THE MIDNIGHT GHOST**

**A/N:**

I want to give a **BIG **_**Thank you**_ to my true beta Breanna Tala, who did a great job helping me. Without her, I would not be able to post this story!

**Thank you**so much for all the reviews. I had to see my grandparents because of very difficult problems. I took all reviews along; your lovely words kept me going and gave me light in an extreme dark tunnel.

I hope you'll enjoy this Chapter, it's written just for you.

_**x.x.x.x.x.x**_

**- . -**

**Chapter 7**

In summertime, the old alley in Spinner's End was green and the trees had big, light-green leaves. They gave the impression of tight, thick umbrellas. It was nice to walk under them and enjoy the flowers planted around the trees. The street itself was straight and very long. On both sides of it were houses, built of red flagstones, looking all the same. The front yards were overgrown and the matching pathways leading to front doors were rough and uninviting. On either side, the two-story buildings loomed with their identical windows staring out at him. The few broken windows and worn window frames gave him the impression the once-loved homes were either sad or insane. A few of the houses – ones he knew were owned mostly by elderly couples, were better – the grass might have needed cutting, but the yards, at least, had few weeds and the pathways were safe to walk on_._ The younger families with children had moved closer to the bigger cities or closer to the park area. Spinner's End had become a lonely place.

Now, in November, there were no leaves on the trees, and the broken branches looked dreary, pointing into the sky like sharp knifes. The snow, covering the trees now, didn't help much. The branches looked even blacker and pointier. The houses and front yards were covered with snow, now it was harder to see the worn places, but the broken windows were very conspicuous in the white of the snow.

The potions professor, Severus Snape, grew up in the very last house in the alley of this neighbourhood. As Severus approached the house, now standing on the sidewalk outside the path, he realized again how hopeless and depressing the place was. Although it was once of the few houses surrounded by a high evergreen hedge, the house looked just as unkempt as all the others. Perhaps even more so, as the hedge was untrimmed and brown areas peeked out from under the snow. Briefly, Severus wondered if the hole in the hedge – the once that led to the woods in the back – had overgrown. Severus shook his head, putting such thoughts out of his head. With the child in his arms, he didn't need to think of such things.

As he stepped through the wards, he could feel the crackling around him and the boy. The magic was touching him, checking him, before letting him pass. He held Harry tightly so the wards could recognise that the child belonged to him. Soon, the crackling stopped and Severus took his wand, pointing it on the snowy white ground, and mumbled, "Leave!" The snow disappeared, leaving a path big enough for him to walk on. Glad the entrance went smoothly, he opened the front door, stepped through into the dark, small hallway and shut the door behind him – the wards reset, as expected.

- . -

It wasn't until he went to try to put Harry down on the small table to take off his cloak did he realize that the child was unconscious."Damn," he said roughly. Worried, he carried Harry into the living room across the hallway and laid him on the dark sofa. He kneeled in front of it and tried to wake up Harry, slapping him softly on the face. "Harry, Harry? Come on child, don't give up – come back . . . . wake up . . . Harry?" he whispered despairingly. Leaning closer to Harry, he gently cupped the boy's face with both hands. He realized suddenly how hot the little face was - burning away. "Fever . . . Shit. Harry, can you hear me?" Severus' face was only inches away from Harry's, just so he wouldn't miss any signs. But the little face stayed blank. He felt the panic rise. What if the child died, what if he couldn't save him? This little hurt creature was supposed to be the saviour of the world. . . In his despair, it didn't come to his mind that he could've used magic on the poor boy. He had rarely been around sick children before. He always sent the students to Poppy Pomfrey, the Mediwitch of Hogwarts. Delayed, the thought popped into his mind. 'Of course! Poppy!' he thought relived. Remembering his own first aid training, that all teacher's had to go through, he conjured a continually-cool cloth up and laid it on Harry's forehead. Then he kept on thinking, that he should take Harry to Hogwarts and let Poppy check him over and save his life. _'But, wait – '_ he thought, slowly getting control again _'If Albus finds this out, he'll go completely off the hook… And m__e__,__ t__o__o__,__ t__hen. I better get Poppy here. Better save than sorry.' _He grabbed the dark green wool blanket from the sofa's armrest and covered the boy before turning to light a fire. Grabbing a handful of grey-greenish floo powder from the stone bowl on the mantel, he through it into the fire and knelt down quickly. He called for Poppy's office so quickly he wasn't sure the floo understood at first, but it turned green, and he stuck his head through to see that the office was empty. He felt panic rise again, deep down in his stomach. He couldn't leave the little one alone to go and search for Poppy. Just before he lost his control completely from panic, the door to the office opened and the mediwitch came through.

"Poppy!" Severus called out, relieved - so _very_ relieved.

"Severus?" The mediwich asked in wonder. She looked tired, and her voice was far from pleasant. "I was just finishing before I get some sleep. Long night; Hufflepuff third years decided to prank the first years, but they made the potion wrong. I also have some kids with a cold waking up this morning and Professor Sinistra is coughing badly." She paused, seemingly collecting herself. "Is something wrong? Were you successful with finding your roses?"

Severus pulled one eyebrow up. "Roses?" Then he remembered – the potion, the graveyard – the boy! Poppy looked at him surprised.

"Oh, yes, well, the roses. Yeah, found some, all right," Gosh, he sounded like a confused child himself._'I better pull myself together, before she thinks I'm sick and doesn't believe a word I'm saying' "_Poppy, you have to come, I found a child . . ." How could he explain he found a child – Harry – in the graveyard?

"A child?" Poppy interrupted his thoughts.

"Yes, and he's sick. You have to come over and check on him."

"Severus," Poppy looked at him very seriously. She was so tired her mind didn't focus well at all. "If you found a child in the graveyard, he's probably dead. That's why people are in the graveyard." And after a short pause she added, "You're not sick, are you?"

"He was alive when I found him. And as you're arguing with me now, he will be dead when we're done!" Severus answered impatiently.

"All right, I'll come," Poppy grabbed her cloak and checked on some vials. "Where are you? Spinner's End?"

"Yes, hurry." Severus stepped back to let Poppy come through. He went back to Harry to check if he's still around to make sure he wasn't any worse. He felt the light breathing and soft heartbeat. _'Thank you, Merlin.' _He stayed next to him, caressing the boy's hair lightly and waiting for the mediwitch come through.

A moment later, the fire started to change into green again and Poppy stepped through. She immediately saw Severus kneeling by the dark green sofa and came to him. She laid one hand on Severus' shoulder and looked over to see a very small, skinny child with a pale face but with unhealthy red cheeks.

"Severus –" her hand moved forward to touch the face of the apparently sleeping child. "Fever, too hot" she mumbled and stared at Severus in confusion. _'Hugh, What happened here?' _she was wondering, surprised. _'He never let anyone come so close to him. And now this little boy . . . .?'_ Out loud she said, "- who is this child? Where did you find him? Why . . . "

"Poppy," he interrupted her, starting to get mad. They were wasting time, talking. "I need you to check him out. He's running a fever and he's unconscious. Will you help him now or not?" he growled.

"Of course, I will! How can you ask that?" She felt caught and flushed lightly around her ears. She was embarrassed she hadn't thought of that first, herself – when she was too tired, she'd tend to think of things like that only after the fact and sometimes she'd feel guilty for it. Especially when it was something her, herself, knew well. She pushed him a little aside to have a better look. He heard her pull air in and turned his head to look in her shocked face after she discovered the burned side of his face. "Merlin – what happened here?"

Severus shook his head slowly. He wished he knew. "I don't know, Poppy. He already had it when I found him."

He was watching her, touching the child's face and discovering not just the burn, but also the fresh blue bruise on his chin and purple bruises on his forehead, three missing teeth, a lightly swollen nose and a splinter of glass in his right eye.

Severus felt so sorry - so sorry - for Harry. It was then he realized that right now, there was no one here who would protect the boy – no one who would worry – but him. Suddenly, he had the flashback back to the graveyard again, when Harry had called him "Dad".

While Poppy waved her wand over Harry, she banished his clothes away in order to do a complete check up. As long as the boy was still alive, she would find the reason for his unconsciousness and would be able to heal him. Looking at him closely, she saw the yellow stripe on his neck and the bruised shoulders. On his torso were little white scars and red scratches, some not healed yet. On his legs were big blue spots, looking like he had bumped in many furniture corners– the whole child was telling the story of being abused. While muttering this and that spell, she was caressing his head

Suddenly, Severus heard her gasping out loud. His head flung up, alarmed. Poppy stared at the child's forehead, discovering the lightning bolt shaped scar.

"Severus -" she whispered shocked and completely awake now. "This is Harry – Lily's Harry. – Harry Potter!" And she looked up, directly in Severus' onyx eyes. "Lily's little Harry," she whispered disbelieving and a tear trailed down her face. She cupped Harry's little face in her hands, softly stroking it. Severus laid one hand on Poppy's arm. "I know," he said sadly and they stared into each other's eyes in silent understanding.

"Fine," Poppy wiped the tears away. Severus turned his attention back to Harry, taking one of his little hands in his big one. He rubbed the hand with his thumb. With the other hand he took the vial with the healing crème that Poppy handed to him and started applying it onto Harry's bruises.

Poppy pinched her lips together in a straight line, waving her wand once more, muttering some spells.

- . -

**To be Continued**


	8. Chapter 8

**THE MIDNIGHT GHOST**

**A/N:**

I want to give a **BIG **_**Thank you**_ to my beta Breanna Tala, who is doing a great job helping me. Without her, I would not be able to post this story!

**Thank you**so much for all the reviews. So far I'm trying to post every week. But since my beta and I are hard working in school and job right now, and Christmas season started, it is possible that I can not post regulary. Please be patient with us. Thanks

Of course Harry Potter is not mine…

_**x.x.x.x.x.x**_

**- . -**

**Chapter 8**

"You did what?" Albus Dumbledore laid down his quill and looked up at Severus. Severus had gone to the Headmaster of Hogwarts to tell him about Harry. Not that he wanted to, but he had a bad feeling with this. Harry was supposed to be a happy, spoiled prince with his relatives – and now he'd found out that the boy hadn't been simply forgotten about, but he had also been hurt. And his wounds were not new… Albus should know about this, and do something, too. Maybe he could find another family which would not beat the child to death before he could fulfil the prophesy.

Albus silently got up from his chair and moved around the desk to stand in front of Severus.

"You must return him home to his relatives," he said seriously and looked Severus deep into his eyes. Severus closed his mind fast, but purposely let pictures of Harry, of how he found him in the snow underneath the bush in the despondent graveyard, slip through.

"I can't," Severus replied after Albus had left his mind carefully. "It would be against my vows. I promised to protect the boy." Albus started to look miffed, his eyes twinkling madly.

"Yes, you promised." Albus said seriously, in an even tone. "I remember that very well. And for Harry's best protection, you will take him back to his relatives. It's safest for him there."

"Albus." Severus voice was lower than usual. On one hand, he wanted to save this child, but on the other side, he wondered himself, _'What do I care? James Potter's son – Lily's eyes -' _he felt torn. _'Save Lily's child'_ came into his mind and the ice cube that he had felt for a moment in his stomach disappeared. "You don't understand." He started pacing the Headmaster's office, avoiding his following gaze. The boy needed to be protected, and he will not be deterred "They mistreat him," Severus continued. "Harry is a living punching bag -" Albus picked up his hand, facing Severus and interrupted him impatiently.

"Severus," Albus said forcefully, and Severus suspected it was going to be a hard battle to win. "You found the boy in a graveyard. He could have run away. Perhaps the evidence you have seen is from the boy's peers, not the caretakers. In either case, the only outcome is that he will not grow up spoiled, and I know you agree that when a child is spoiled, it is often their downfall. Especially with this child. The entire wizarding world will have their eye on him when he turns 11. It's all right for him to tough up a little. Remember, someday Voldemort will return and it will be a bad war. There's no need for being nice."

At the mentioning name of the Dark Lord Severus winced back a little.

Dumbledore continued with the same tone of voice: "For his own safety, you must return him home. You never know, but there could be still some Death Eaters looking out for him, just waiting to catch, torture and kill him. Severus, I know you just want to do what's best for the boy. This is very important. You transferred the life debt from James to Harry and you promised to protect him. You must do what's best for him, and best for him is to be home safely." He crossed his hands on his back and started wandering along his shelves of books, silently. "Besides, if you would keep the child, and it would be unprotected, what would you do with him when you teach? Who would care for him? You know, it all wouldn't be a problem at all, if Tom wouldn't know about the prophesy…" He trailed off. Severus couldn't respond. Albus looked up to Severus and raised his voice a small nuance:"If you are unable to take him back, I could find somebody who will!"

While Albus gave this speech, Severus had stopped pacing and stood in front of the window. Outside, everything was white. It looked so peaceful, untouched . . . magic. Christmas was coming near and Advent season had just begun. _'How does Harry spend Christmas?' _His thoughts were so far away, but he came back to earth quickly after Albus started raising his voice. Severus turned around to face Dumbledore. Albus had turned to walk back to his desk, sat down behind it, picked up his quill again to continue his work. He'd expected Severus to be going, but when he looked up, the professor was still standing a few feet away from the window, facing him. Severus arms were crossed tightly over his chest and his head picked up high. With black, stinging eyes he looked straight into Albus'.

"No," he said, more confident than he actually was. "Harry's not safe there."

Albus thought he wasn't hearing right. He stood up so quickly again that his chair slammed back but did not fall down. His fist slammed the top of the desk, making the inkpot jump and some of the purple ink splash around unnoticed. "I'm no longer asking you. This is a command! You found him, you bring him back! Do. You. Understand. That?" He yelled now and his madness made the glass in the office shatter and the pages of the open books turn.

Severus was still standing cross armed, watching the headmaster. He wasn't going to be intimidated by tricks. A flash suddenly raced through his mind: a hurt little boy, lonely and hiding behind a shelf in a dark room. He pushed the feelings away that came with it and in his imagination, the picture changed and the little boy became Harry. He suddenly felt how hurt and tortured the little boy felt.

His hands became fists and with impatiently controlled anger, he slammed them down to each side of his body. "No!" he said again, this time very, very calm. He felt the explosion coming from both sides, but he tried to keep his down. _'Why in the world is Albus so inflexible?'_

"This is not about a stray dog you find on a corner somewhere that keeps following you, Severus. This boy is a treasure for the Light of Hope in the dark. Severus, this child must be returned to his family. He must grow up with them to become a strong and faithful wizard." Albus tried to be calm again, too. He caressed his long white beard with one hand, thinking. "You must -"

"I can't, Albus." Severus interrupted the Headmaster quietly crossing his arms over his chest again.

Albus sighed and slowly sat down again, his eyes no longer twinkling. _'Why does Severus makes this so stupidly complicated?' _He was wondering.

"Severus, I will have Arabella Figg watch Harry more closely, but you must return him home to his relatives, best today."

Severus couldn't stop himself in time. He blurred out: "Why are you so blind, damn it? Didn't you see how they treat him, how he looks or how he feels? I know, I have -"

"Severus!" Albus' interrupted with a deadly soft voice; one that Severus realized now that Albus was extremely angry and – above all – disappointed. "This is not about you! It has nothing to do with you, or how you grew up! This is not your business! You have known me for years, so trust me when I say this must be done. It cannot be changed, and I will not have it changed. And I tell you to return that child today, do you finally understand this? Move, NOW!" Again the glass shattered and pages turned and the office was suddenly very cold and windy.

Albus was so mad.

So was Severus.

"You are not listening, Albus." Severus, no longer able to hold in his temper, found himself raising his voice to match Albus' previous tone. His right hand clenched and he slammed his fist on Albus' desk.

"His relatives are torturing him. It's his dearly loving family, not some strange peers. And he didn't run away, they had left him behind. They practice child abuse and you are helping them if you don't do something about it. I'm not allowing it. I don't care about your blasted blood wards. They're just good for his relatives, not for the boy! It doesn't save him at all, and nobody will ever know! What if he dies by their treatment? Have you ever thought about that? What if they kill him? What if they already tried? What will happen to the prophesy, then? You'd never know because you just don't care! Damn, Albus!" Severus grew silent. Albus said nothing, too. Severus sighed. "Fine," he said slowly as giving in. But he thought: _'Will see. I need time, I need to think!' _Loud he said: "What should I do with the boy's injuries?" Albus' twinkle came back and happily he suggested:

"Why don't you treat them before you're dropping him off? I'm sure you can do it correctly." There was a slight hint of smile in his face. "Oh, and don't forget to obliviate him before you leave from his relatives

"Fine." Severus growled and with that, he turned and left the headmaster sitting behind his desk, slamming the door shut behind him. While the professor stormed into the dungeons to floo home to Spinner's End, Dumbledore found himself deep in thought. _'Never, ever before did Severus Snape loose his temper over a child. I would have not__ minded with an ordinary child - but this is different. This was the saviour of the world, the-boy-who-lived. He must grow up with his relatives, this is urgent. He just must. How would he ever grow up and love the world if he grew up spoiled? Severus must understand that the childhood treatment had to do with how this child developed. And a little beating here and there didn't hurt anybody. No, the child must return home…'_

- . -

While Albus was left thinking in the Headmaster's Office, not doubting that Severus would eventually do as told, Severus returned to Harry and Poppy, who had watched Harry while he was gone. Harry was asleep and at his question for changes, Poppy shook her head. "He needs his time for rest," she said quietly as she stood. "I'm in need of some tea. Come and join me?" She went across the small and cosy room to the door, silently, with the intention of going downstairs into the living room. After a checking glance over Harry, Severus followed her. Severus started pacing thoughtfully in front of the fireplace, where a crackling and warming fire was lit. Poppy swung her wand to conjure tea and biscuits.

"Severus," she said and held a full teacup to him. He took it out off her hand and sat down across from her, in his favorite arm chair. "What did he say?" Poppy asked.

"To return him back where I found him. Or best I return him to his relatives in Surry."

"But -" she stopped sipping her tea. "You can't do that, he'll die." She looked at him, shocked.

"I know." He sighed. He told her about Albus' fit. "I got mad at the old fool," he said and got up to pace again. "Yes, I can understand that," She nodded her head and looked at him encouraging him to keep on talking.

"I just couldn't hold back. I should have, but he made me so mad! Maybe I should have said something else or it was wrong altogether, I shouldn't have gone at all. Perhaps I should have…"

"Severus." Poppy interrupted him, silently laughing. "Don't work yourself up in it. We'll think of something, you'll see."

They did not hear Harry coming down the stairs silently, listening to Severus' story, sitting down on the last stair. He heard Severus tell Poppy that he has to be returned to his relatives. _'Oh no'_ he thought. _'I wish I could stay here.'_ He suddenly remembered Sir Frederick's promise to have a home soon and felt hurt. Nobody wanted him, not even the Dad-man. He felt so cold, suddenly. Quietly, he got up from the stairs to return back into the room where he had slept in, where he looked for his clothes. Someone had changed him into a huge black t-shirt while he had been sleeping, which he found looked like a nightgown on him when he looked into a mirror. He found his clothes neatly folded on a chair by a small table on one side of his room. He carefully picked up his sweater and searched for his little pouch with the "flower of life" in it. He pealed off one leaf and put it on his tongue to let it melt away. Yes, he felt much better, now.


	9. Chapter 9

**THE MIDNIGHT GHOST**

**A/N:**

I want to give a **BIG **_**Thank you**_ to my beta Breanna Tala, who is doing a great job helping me. Without her, I would not be able to post this story!

**Thank you**so much for all the reviews. It made me so happy to read them. I was so touched when I was looking on somebody's profile the other day, to find my own story within their favourites! Thank you so much! I think it's wonderful that you truly like this story. You are supporting me to not just keep up my writing, but also improve my english, since I'm not a native english speaker.

- . -

I was trying so far to post every week, but through Christmas season I'm just too busy. I going to try to post every second Sunday until the season is over.

I wish every one of you a nice advent season. Now, enjoy reading as much I did enjoy writing it.. Vin

_**x.x.x.x.x.x**_

**- . -**

**Chapter 9**

- . -

"Arabella Figg? He said Arabella Figg?" Poppy looked at Severus in question.

"Yes," Severus nodded with his head. "Do you know her?"

"Actually, yes, I do," she said, deep in thought. "So that's where she'd disappeared to," she mumbled. Then she looked up at Severus. "You must know her, too," she told him. "She used to live in muggle London, but she worked at Florish and Blotts until she felt too old for the noise. Albus must have moved her to Surry to watch over little Harry." She took a bite of her biscuit and chewed it slowly.

"I think I remember her," Severus said, sipping his tea. "Should I ask her for help?"

Poppy looked at him openly. "Why not? She must be on the child's side – she always loved children, - and Kneazels –" Poppy smiled.

"Will you watch Harry again, so I can talk to her?" Severus didn't really like the thought of just going and asking someone strange for help with Harry. What if she would turn and inform the Headmaster?

This was help for the safety for Harry, the savoir of the world to stay alive and become the savoir. He felt himself being pulled back and forth, but nothing felt right.

"Just talk to her," Poppy interrupted his thoughts. "When you know her a little better, you still can decide if you want her to help or not. And if she can help us, in the first place."

Severus nodded. _'Yes, that is a good idea.'_ He thought. He could deal with that, glad to be putting off any decisions he had to make.

They finished their tea, quietly talking about potions needed for the hospital wing until Poppy got up to leave.

- . -

After Poppy left through the floo, Severus went upstairs to check on Harry. He found him fully dressed, sitting on the window sill and staring out into the white, snow-covered garden. The forest on the other side of the hedge looked like a protecting wall from the outside world.

Severus tapped his fingers on the door so he didn't scare the boy.

Harry picked up his head to look over his shoulder at Severus. "Hello," he said, smiling shyly.

"Hello," Severus replied and he came closer to Harry to also look out to the snowy garden. "Pooh, it looks pretty white out there," he said, not really knowing what to say at all.

Harry picked up his hand and laid it on the glass of the window. "Cold," realizing it, he moved his hand away and put it around his knees. "But nice,"

Severus glanced at the hedge. _'This seems so awkward, I must say something', _he had a strange feeling. He felt green eyes on himself, but when he turned his head down to look at Harry, the little boy moved his head away his eyes aiming the forest again.

"How are you doing?"

"Okay," Harry replied with a whisper.

The sky was grey and it looked like as if it would snow some more.

Severus leaned forward and moved his finger to point through the window to show something to Harry. "See that corner over there in the hedge?"

Harry followed Severus' finger with his eyes and nodded when he found the corner.

"There, all the way on the bottom of this hedge, right there, is a hole, big enough to crawl through. When I was your age, there was an Elderberry tree growing in front of it. I didn't even know the hole was there, until one time, in the spring, I saw a beautiful bird disappearing through the leaves of the Elderberry. The bird was very dark purple, and from the size, it looked like it could have been a swallow. But I don't think it was one. I wanted to know how it could disappear. I tried to find the bird, but I never did. But I did find the hole. First I was afraid, because of the story of the Elderberry tree. I sat in front of it, for hours, just to see what would happen. In the fall, the tree carried little purple-black berries and I was a hundred percent sure that the purple bird I saw before turned itself into those berries." He stopped talking and looked at the hedge outside.

"What is the story of the Elderberry?" he heard Harry ask silently and he smiled lightly.

He remembered himself sitting on the grass in front of the tree just waiting for the bird to appear again, or for any other changes. "Well, the tree," he picked up his wand and held it out in the direction of a wooden chair, that was placed next to the small bed Harry had slept in. "Accio chair," he said, and the chair came toward him. He caught it and placed it next to Harry, by his side, and sat down on it. He made himself comfortable before continuing the story – all with Harry watching him attentive.

Harry thought his story was real cool. In school, the teachers had told stories, too, when all the children behaved well. Even Mrs Figg, a neighbour of the Dursley's who watched him once in a while, had known some nice stories to tell, but this one, told by the Dad-man, was really cool. Harry thought that this would be a Dad and son thing. Uncle Vernon had told stories to Dudley, too, but Harry wasn't ever allowed to listen. So this he enjoyed double, because the Dad-man was telling the story to him alone. And just that made it special for little Harry.

"Well, the tree," Severus said and pointing to the spot where the tree used to be. "The Elderberry is a guarding tree. Its spirit is guarding one's houses and grounds, when it's growing by the house. In the old stories, it says that if you die the entrance to the 'Other-World' leads through an Elderberry tree. If you sleep outside, you should always look for an Elderberry to sleep under, because it will keep you safe. But be aware of strange spirits who might want to harm you." He smiled at Harry, leaned back and crossed his arms comfortably. "The muggles use everything of the tree for their medicine. So do the wizards, but we don't have pills or shots. We use potions and creams. When the tree bloomed, my mother made small cakes with them with sugar on top. They tasted delicious." He trailed off, thinking and remembering.

Harry wished he could have some to taste. "Can you cook some?" He asked.

Severus came back to reality, amused shaking his head. "Did you look outside, yet? There are no Elderberry blooms around this time of year. You must wait until the early summer." He was looking friendly at Harry and it gave him the feeling as if Severus' last sentence was sort of a silent promise.

"Oh," Harry said, disappointed. He looked outside again and asked after a while: "What happened to the tree?"

Severus folded his hands in his lap. "Well, one time my father had drunk too much," he continued quietly. "He came with an axe and cut the tree down. He said he couldn't hear that nonsense I was telling about the bird and the berries no more. He tried to burn the wood, but it wouldn't burn." He grinned madly.

"Because of the spirits?" Harry was very curious. _'What a story!'_ He thought.

Severus looked up. Harry had real interest in this story. Severus was surprised, but he could tell that Harry understood the destiny of the tree.

"Maybe," Severus moved one arm to stand it on the window sill where Harry sat on and leaned his chin into his open hand. "You think so?" he asked and saw Harry getting exited.

The little one sat up, put his legs down and his hands curled together in his lap. Harry couldn't believe his luck. Here was someone who was not just telling a great story, no, this man took him serious and even asked his opinion.

Severus was wondering about himself. Why in the world was he asking the boy's opinion? This child sneaked up into his heart without him knowing it. And now he sat here, telling him a very sensitive story about himself and was even seriously interested in this child's opinion? _'Am I mad? Am I getting old?'_ He wondered about himself. But while he was thinking, seriously, this little boy gave him a new thought.

"Yeah," Harry said quietly. "The guarding spirits came out, the spirits who guard the door to the 'Other-World', and they made it so that the tree can't die. Who would guard the house, the ground and the 'Other-World' if the tree wouldn't be there anymore?" Harry looked away from the snowy garden into Severus' face. "And who would guard you?"

Severus' first reaction would have been to jump backwards – literally – and close up. He was getting too vulnerable. But he caught himself just in time. This little one was the one who'd touched his heart, his soul before. And he just did it again by asking this innocent question. He felt as if Harry had come to him for a reason, and because of that, he was not allowed to push him away. It was like Harry was a spirit himself. He had to think about this later. Now, he pushed this overwhelming situation away and instead of answering, he just changed the topic.

He continued the story: "Every year in the spring, my father would walk to the stem of the tree to cut down the new tribes. After years, he dug out the root. A couple of month later, my mother died." He paused, wondering to himself whether he had any regret telling the boy this. But, for some reason, he was sure Harry understood.

Suddenly, he felt a little hand searching for his, taking and holding it. He felt himself silently comforted and calmed.

"Did you ever go through the hole?"

"No," Severus shook his head. "I always was afraid I would end up in the 'Other-World', since it wasn't guarded anymore. And then I got too big and didn't fit anymore."

"What happened with the bird? Did you ever see it again?"

Severus looked down at Harry's hand in his without seeing it. He was mindlessly caressing the top of the little hand with his thumb. "No," he said quietly. "I've only seen it when the tree was standing. With the fall of the tree, the bird left, too, and never came back."

"Don't you have a book of birds?" Harry asked. He was exited to find out more about the Elderberry bird. "Maybe if you knew what kind of bird it was, it would come back and bring a new Elderberry tree?"

Severus looked up surprised. "Yes, I have a book on birds…"

"Well, can't we look?" Harry interrupted. He jumped off the window sill and crossed the room in a hurry. By the door, he turned around to look at Severus, who was still seated in his chair, as if stunned. "Aren't you coming?"

"Yes," Severus replied. "Yes." He stood up to follow Harry down stairs into his library.

Well, it was actually his living room, a very small dark sitting room; the walls were completely covered in books, most of them bound in old black or brown leather. It held more books than the average home library. In the middle of it were a forest green, threadbare sofa and old armchair with a small, rickety table, grouped together. A candle-filled lamp hung from the ceiling. One side of the sofa was facing the fireplace, the other side, the stairway up. In the back of the room were two doors. One small one that led to the hallway, and a bigger one that opened to the small dining area and the kitchen.

Harry placed himself on the sofa and watched Severus closely while he searched for the book. There were shelves on all sides on the walls, all the way up to the ceiling, filled up with books. Harry had never seen that many books in a living room_. 'Did the Dad-man read them all?'_ He was wondering.

Finally, Severus pulled out a very big, dark-brown leather book, pictures of rainbow coloured feathers all over. "Magical and Unmagical World of Birds", it said, written on the top. In small lettering on the bottom, the author's name, Raymond James, stood out. Severus took the book and sat down next to Harry on the forest green couch.

"All right, let's see." There were so many pictures of birds; there must have been thousands. Some moved, some didn't. Severus showed Harry how to use this book. "You can tell which birds hold magic in them and which don't. See, the ones who have magic show it by moving in the pictures. The ones who aren't magical don't move in the book either."

There were several categories: water birds, near shore birds, doves, woodpeckers, birds of prey and perching birds. Half of the book was just perching birds. Then they were sorted into families. "Don't let this confuse you," he said and showed Harry the sanctuary of some birds.

A bunch of beautiful birds were shaking and stretching their wings.

"Look," Harry pointed on a picture with a swallow on it. It had a red face and a yellow tummy. "That's a pretty one." And he started reading the name of the bird underneath. "Ba… Barn… Sw... Swall… Swallow – Barn Swallow." Proudly he looked at Severus, and Severus looked encouraging in return.

"Yes. And look, there it is – the Elderberry bird. And it could be either magical or non-magical. – Interesting." Severus pointed on a dark purple bird on the bottom of the page. It had the colour of the black berries from an Elderberry tree, giving a purple shine on the sunlight in the picture.

"P… Pur… Purple Ma… Mart… Martin – Purple Martin." Harry read proudly.

"Purple Martin -" Severus repeated thoughtfully.

"Do you know this bird?" Harry asked Severus and looked at him as for waiting of a new story. Severus turned to Harry, fully aware of the hopeful look.

"I am the potions professor at Hogwarts, a school for witches and wizards. And I know the stomach feathers of this bird as we use them for potions. Most of the healing potions contain one or two feathers in them. I should have known." Severus said in wonder, shaking his head inwardly to himself.

Harry nodded and very carefully turned the page to see more birds. Severus relaxed again and together they sat on the sofa, looking at birds.


	10. Chapter 10

**THE MIDNIGHT GHOST**

**A/N:**

I want to give a **BIG **_**Thank you**_ to my beta Breanna Tala, who is doing a wonderful job helping me. Without her, I would not be able to post this story! Any mistakes you may find will be my own.

**Thank you**so much for all your reviews. It makes me happy to read them. It keeps my mind moving for new ideas to put in this story. Without you, it would have been just a 4 Chapter Story! I was so touched when I was looking on somebody's profile the other day, to find my own story within their favourites! Thank you!

You are also supporting me to not just keep up my writing, but also improve my english, since I'm not a native english speaker.

- . -

I was trying so far to post every week, but through Christmas season I'm just too busy. I going to try to post every second Sunday until the season is over.

I wish every one of you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. I'm looking forward to 'meet' you in 2011. Have a wonderful and healthy 'ride'… Vin

_**x.x.x.x.x.x**_

**- . -**

**Chapter 10**

**- . -**

"Are you hungry?" Severus said suddenly as he looked at the clock on the mantel. It was already afternoon; they had been so busy, they had completely missed lunch. "We should get something to eat; I could definitely use some food." Harry closed the book and laid it carefully on the couch next to him. Then he got up and walked into the small kitchen next to the living room. Being so trained by the Dursley's, he had the feeling he's suppose to prepare the food.

It didn't look like a cosy kitchen. It was almost sterile; extremely clean with nothing sitting around. Aunt Petunia always had the coffee machine stand out on the counter and the microwave, too. But there was nothing in this kitchen; he didn't even see a fridge, only an old stove that Harry wasn't sure he knew how to work. It looked like nobody had cooked here in a long time, so Harry wondered what they were going to eat.Severus had followed Harry and went to a normal sized kitchen cabinet standing on the right side. He opened it and bowed down to look inside. "Let's see," he said. "We could make an early dinner. There is rice with chicken and pies, or would you rather like green beans?" Harry was starring at him. _'Is this a freezer?'_ he was wondering, watching Severus closely. The Professor was still looking in the cabinet. "Oh, how about some carrots? They would give some colour to the plain rice…" Stunned, Harry was surprised that this freezer could hold so much food. It looked so small. While Severus was talking, he went to the stove and pulled out the drawer next to it. Yes, there were several pots and pans. He took out two pots and set them on the big old iron stove. Carefully he traced the front and remembered the morning when Dudley pushed him against the stove in Privet Drive. It seemed so long ago.

Holding his wand, Severus made the food fly to the counter in Harry's direction, next to the stove and sink. It set itself by the pots. Severus came over, spotting the pans. "Oh, the muggle way – all right. There is rice, carrots and chicken. Let's take the big one for the rice…" he washed the rice in a sieve that was floating on it's own in the sink and it filled itself in the bigger blue pot. It was only then that Severus realized Harry was not moving. He was just standing with his little hand on the stove. _'Daydreaming? Remembering? Is that where the burn came from? It would fit…_' and decided he should pull Harry out of his daydreams. Leaning over him, Severus brought his lips very close to the boy's ear, and he said very quietly: "Dreaming?"

"Huh?" Harry moved back quickly, surprised, and he flushed. Yes, actually, that was what he was doing: Remembering. _'Oh boy, I hope he's not mad at me for not doing my job,'_ he thought, a little frightfully. But no, the man didn't look angry at all. Relived, he took the knife, which he had found in one of the drawers and chopped the carrots ends off. He placed them to the sink to wash, while Severus was getting a bigger pan for the chicken pieces and placed it on the stove. Harry let the carrots there to dry off some and grabbed the chicken pieces. He cleaned them and laid it in the pan to fry them then made sure everything was the right temperature. Harry couldn't reach the back of the stove but did not once turn to Severus to ask for help even though the little stool he had had at Privet Drive wasn't here, of course. When he managed, he took the knife again to chop the carrots up in small slices. The boy moved around like he knew what he was doing and his work showed skill. He didn't realize Severus watching him, stunned. _'Argh, great, what's this? Help, he's acting like a house elf! What have those idiotic muggle done to him?'_ Severus was surprised, but not happy. He got himself out of this stupor, came over to Harry and laid his big hand on the little one, holding the big knife down to stop the child's work. Harry looked up, confused and surprised at the sudden interruption _'What am I'm doing wrong?'_ His tummy tightened and he felt a slight panic attack rise again.

"Harry." Severus voice had a very serious tone in it. "Stop."

Shaking, Harry let go of the knife, which fell with a clutter on the cutting board. Because Harry felt so tense, it sounded real loud. He pulled his hand back, out of Severus grip, bowed his head and stared down at his feet.

Severus laid his hands on Harry's shoulders and turned the little boy towards him. "Look at me." But the little boy's head didn't move. Severus sighed. _'I don't believe this,'_ he thought. _'Lily's little boy moving around in the kitchen as if he's done this every day!'_ "Harry," he said again, but this time much more softly, and kneeled himself down to be on the same eye level with the child. He placed one finger under Harry's chin and gently lifted it so the little one would look into his face. Green eyes looked into black. Severus could read the panic in them.

"Child," he said softly, "who taught you how to cook?"

"My . . . my aunt. Sir."

"Why?"

'_Argh, I'm messing it up,'_ Harry thought and felt the panic rising in him. He failed fighting it this time. _'What did I do wrong? He doesn't want to keep me, where would I go…?'_ He was asking silently and working himself up into the next panic attack. Severus realized it soon, after he felt Harry's breathing shortening and his upper lip turning purple. Immediately, he summoned a little vial with calming draught from a small wooden kitchen cabinet and held it in front of Harry's now - blue lips. "Drink," he ordered Harry. But the boy was looking at him, keeping his mouth shut. Severus was still holding on Harry's shoulder with one hand, and squeezed it a little. "Drink." He repeated his order. "Or I'll make you," he growled. Harry looked down for a second. When he looked up again, he stared right into Severus rigid face and drank it, watching Severus closely. It tasted awful. "What was that?" he asked, feeling the panic attack swim away as if it was a splinter in a river.

"Calming Draught." Severus placed the empty vial above their heads on the counter, grabbed Harry under the arms, pulled himself and Harry up and placed him on the counter before him.

"Now," he said, and looked straight at Harry's face. "I don't want you cooking the whole meal. You can help, but I'm the grown up, I'm cooking. Understood?" Severus was very serious about it. He didn't want a house elf. If he wanted one, he'd get one. Slowly, Harry bowed his head. "Yes," he said. And added a: "Sir," quietly. Severus picked up the knife and cut up the remaining carrots. He placed them in the smaller green pot and held his wand to the stove to cook the food magically.

"All right," he said and turned back to Harry. "In the cupboard over there, you can find plates and the glasses are above. In the drawer over here is the silverware. You can help and set the table. And when you're done, you will go and wash your hands." Adding after a while: "With soap and warm water." He gave Harry a slight smile.

"OK." Harry nodded calmly. He hopped from the kitchen counter, got the plates, glasses and silverware to set the table and then went upstairs to the small bathroom next to the room he'd slept in to wash his hands. While doing it, he looked at himself in the mirror. "Gee," he said to the Harry in the mirror, "That was scary. I thought I'd be dead." He remembered how scared he'd been when the Dad-man stopped him from chopping. _'Maybe I should eat a leaf, just in case.'_ He thought and after he'd dried his hands and attempted to flatten? out his hair, he reached to the pouch he carried around his neck and opened it. The "Flower of Life" inside was glowing in a silvery light up at him, just like a small flashlight. He took it carefully in his palm and peeled a leaf off. He placed it in his mouth and felt the warmth around his heart immediately. Yes, that's what he needed. He placed the flower back in the pouch and let it fall back onto his bare skin. With a light smile, he hopped down the stairs to eat an early dinner with the Dad- Man.

- . -

After Dinner, Harry returned to the living room, while Severus magically washed, dried and cleaned up the dishes. When he moved back into the living room, where Harry sat comfortably on the couch, reading the bird book again, he placed a plate with small scones on it on the table. While he got some tea for himself, he gave Harry a glass of warm milk.

"Thank you. Sir." The boy gave him a shy smile.

"You're welcome." He went to the bookshelf to get himself a potions book to do some research of the "Death's Return Potion" he was still trying to brew, sat down on the armchair and began to read.

When he reached for his tea cup again, he realized it empty. While taking the teapot to pour more tea into his cup, his sight automatically fell on Harry.

Harry still sat on the sofa, but couldn't read anymore. Suddenly he had felt real dizzy, and here he was sitting, holding his head in silent pain.

Severus was watching the boy for a while, thinking the child fell asleep while trying to read the book. But suddenly realized Harry wasn't in any relaxed position, like he would have been if he were sleeping.

"Harry?" The child showed no reaction, not at all. It was like the child was frozen. Severus placed his book careless next to him on the table and moved quickly to the unmoving child.

"Harry?" He said once more; worry shining through his voice like a red thread. When he still got no response, kneeling down, he placed his hands on Harry's looking into the boy's face. The child looked stressed, his eyes closed, face pale with red cheeks and pearls of sweat on his forehead.

Severus closed the bird book with one hand and placed it next to Harry on the sofa.

"Child," he said with a very kind voice and pulled him towards himself. "What is wrong?" Harry's eyes were still closed, still holding his pounding head but leaning onto the Professor's chest.

"Sir, he whispered panting, "my head's spinning."

Severus held the small body to his chest, unable to let him go. He got up from the floor and with Harry in his arms moved back to the armchair by the warming fire. Sitting down, he placed Harry, who had still his hands on his head, in his lap. With one big, warm hand he pushed Harry's head onto his chest; with the other he took his wand and summoned a vial of Pain-Reliving-Potion.

"Here, little one," he mumbled softly. "Drink. It will help you. I promise." Harry was not able to ask what kind of potion it was. He was just glad he could swallow it.

"There, you got it. Good boy," Severus kept talking softly. In the next fifteen minutes Harry just rested his head in the nest between Severus' hand and chest, listening to Severus' calming steady heartbeat. The Professor's other hand soothed his back gently or caressed the back of Harry's neck. After a while the stressed look on Harry's face disappeared and he fell into an even sleep.

Severus stayed in this chair with Harry for a long time. He enjoyed the warmth of the child on his lap. Perhaps, if Lily would have chosen him instead of James, he would have had a child of his own.

'_I guess it was just too much for him today. I wonder why nobody has claimed the child yet, at least not that I know of,' _His thoughts were just coming._ 'If he were mine, I would search for him right away. He's with me now for more then 24 hours. How long had he been on the graveyard? I can't bring him back to his abusive relatives . . . What am I'm doing? I have to teach – where would he be? Who would watch him? Poppy has to work too, and I couldn't take him along – and what's with Albus? When he finds out . . .'_

Around midnight, he carefully got up to settle down to bed. The next morning he would have to return to Hogwarts, since he had to teach a bunch of dunderheads.

Carefully he carried the child into the small guest bed room, in which Harry had slept the night before. He gently laid the boy in the bed, transferred his clothes into midnight blue pyjamas and tucked him in.

Before he turned to go into his own room, he bent down and placed a light kiss onto the child's forehead.

"Good night," he whispered and left the door ajar when he retired in his own room.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N:**

I'm sorry for the long delay. I want to give a **BIG **_**THANK YOU**_ to my betas Breanna Tala and jemovampiress, who are doing a wonderful job helping me. Without them, I would have given up at Chapter 10! Any mistakes you still may find will be my own.

**101 Reviews! **Wow, I never thought in my dreams that my story would get that many reviews! Thank you so much! It makes me happy to read them, since it keeps my mind moving for new ideas to put in this story. I was so touched when I was looking on somebody's profile the other day, to find my own story within their favourites! _Thank you_!

You are not just supporting me to keep up my writing, but also to improve my english, since I'm not a native english speaker.

- . -

I was trying so far to post every week, but I write every single one by hand first to then copy it onto the computer. Also, I have a time problem, since school got harder and work and family are around too. I won't be able to post every week, but I might get every second. So, please be patient. Thanks. And now, enjoy…

_**x.x.x.x.x.x**_

**- . -**

**Chapter 11**

- . -

The next morning, when Harry came down the stairs, Poppy was there. He was very happy to see her, especially because he'd slept longer than usual and wasn't sure if that was all right for him to do. Maybe the professor would have liked it if he had made breakfast. Even though he had forbidden him to cook dinner, perhaps breakfast was different. So here he was, expecting to get yelled at, and Poppy was here to protect him. He was glad now, but a fearful feeling spread in his tummy. He was sure punishment was to come later on for his laziness.

"Good morning, Harry," Poppy said smiling at him. "Are you hungry?"

"Good morning, Madame," Harry replied, and politely, he answered her. "Yes Madam, I am hungry." Poppy smiled at him and lead him to the same table he had dinner at, only to see that breakfast was already placed. He looked around for the Professor, but couldn't see him. "Are you looking for Severus?" Poppy asked.

Harry replied in a shy, "Yeah…"

Suddenly, he had the fear that Severus had left him behind and never would come back. But before he could wind himself up into a new fear-filled panic attack, Poppy calmed his fears.

"Oh, he had to teach this morning. He'll be back after lunch."

Harry nodded, unsure, and Poppy led him to the breakfast table, telling him to sit down and start eating. Sitting tentatively, Harry paused only a bit before he gulped down several spoonful's of porridge and a couple bits of buttered toast. It wasn't far into his meal did he begin to feel unsettled again and he pushed away the bowl.

Poppy was surprised. The child didn't eat much at all. She laid one hand on his forehead to see if he was running a fever, but that wasn't the case.

Slightly relived, she said softly "Harry?" He looked up from his food and at her in question. She sat down on a chair next to him and faced him, so he could look her into the eyes. "When I checked you the day Severus brought you here, I found a piece of glass in your eye." She looked at him as she expected him to tell her how it got there when he didn't say a word, she continued in a serious tone. "I would like to remove it. All you would have to do is lie here on the sofa and sleep for a little while, while I work on your eye_._ I promise it won't hurt. I would like to do it soon, before it moves on its own and damages your eye."

Harry slowly nodded his head. "OK . . ."

He didn't feel very comfortable going to sleep when he knew she was going to do something, especially without Severus being there, but he thought that was what he wanted.

"All right, then." Poppy gave him an encouraging smile. "When you're ready, just come to the living room."

She rose from her seat and left him sitting at the table alone to finish his breakfast. He picked up his spoon to eat some more, but he couldn't help it, he was just couldn't eat more. And the knowledge that someone was going to work around at his eyes didn't help his hunger, either. He got up and brought everything into the kitchen and placed it on the counter by the sink. Covering up the leftover porridge and toast, he left them by the stove to finish later on. He finished the milk, though, and washed the glass in the sink. After he dried it, he placed it back in the cupboard. When he was done, he went upstairs in his room to eat a leaf of the flower – just in case it was needed. He had felt the cold panic rise before and he preferred that it wouldn't happen again anytime soon. Downstairs, he went into the living room where Poppy was sitting on Severus' favorite armchair, writing on a curly paper with a feathered quill. An inkpot was standing on the table, holding a light-blue, shimmering ink.

'_I wonder__ why she's just not using a pen. That would be much easier,'_ he thought but didn't say anything. He went over to the green sofa to wait for her to be done.

"All right," she said, moving the parchment from her lap and looking up. She saw Harry waiting on the sofa and a warm smile crossed her face. "Then, I would say let's get started."

She dropped a bunch of pillows on one end of the couch and asked him to lay his head on it, covering him with the soft, green blanket. Moving her wand over his eyes and mumbling some spells, her wand showed a glowing red tip. After awhile, she put it down and grabbed a small vial with a very pale, blue liquid.

"This, Harry," she said, "is called an 'operation-sleep-potion'. You drink it and sleep deeply for me, until I'm done. You will not feel a thing." She gave Harry the vial, and Harry held it in his hands and looked at it.

'_I wonder what's in there. Why is it so blue? A piece of summer sky maybe?'_ and he swung the little vial so the liquid inside was moving. It reminded him of the paint he used to paint Uncle Vernon's shed last summer.

"Come on, child," Poppy waited for Harry to take it. "Drink."

With a little suspiciousness, he put the vial on his lips and drank. When he placed the vial on the table in front of him, he felt suddenly dizzy and heavy. Almost like last night, when the dad-man came and held him. "That's right," he heard Poppy say, as if from far away. "Good boy, now lay down here and…"

He didn't hear anymore; he was sound asleep.

- . -

When he woke up again, two hours later, he couldn't see anything on his right eye. He also felt a big bandage on his face and chin, where his burn was, which felt cold. He could feel someone holding his hands and caressing them lightly. He wished so much it was the Dad-man; he felt so safe with him. He, who told him that great story of the elderberry, had taken him from the graveyard and had helped him yesterday. Who knew how long it would have been until Sir Frederick would have returned. Even with the flower. In that moment, Harry realized that Sir Frederick hadn't offered him any food, but the Professor did. Not just that, but the man had given him a bed, water to wash himself and pajamas he was allowed to wear at night. And he didn't even get punished once. The Professor cared! Someone cared for him. He didn't understand that at all, why someone did.

'_But why else would the Dad-man do all this? __Would he even get my wounds fixed if he didn't care?_

In that moment, he'd felt a strange longing in his heart. It went into his tummy and then into his throat. He wished for Severus to be there, to hold him like he held him before. He wanted to be close to the man, to stay with him forever. To come home to him.

But when he opened the uncovered eye, he saw Poppy sitting next to him, caressing his hand, not Severus. The disappointment was so high, the tears just started coming.

'_Great, now she thinks I'm a cry baby, But I want my Dad, my Dad-man' _he thought with it.

Poppy kept one hand at Harry's and pet his head with the other.

"Hush, my darling," she said softly, "Hush, sweetling, it's all right. You'll be fine."

"I want my Dad," he cried quietly, more in his head than out loud.

Suddenly, he felt another vial on his lips. Without much thinking, completely worn out, he drank it and almost immediately fell back into a deep sleep.

- . -

Poppy sat back, still holding the little boys hand. He'd touched her. His wanting for his Dad, his need for closeness and caring it got to her as well. She laid her fingers on her mouth to stop from crying out loud. One lonely tear fell down her cheek.

- . -

When Severus stepped through the floo in the afternoon, he immediately saw Harry sleeping on the sofa. Poppy sat next to him, caressing his hand lightly.

"How did it go?" he asked roughly and laid his thick winter robe over the old armchair.

"Fine." Poppy smiled at him. But then she told him of Harry's little outburst. "He called for his Dad. Why would he call for James, but not Lily?" she was wondering.

Just then, they heard a knock on the front door. It startled them and both looked at each other, very alarmed. "Are you expecting anybody?" Poppy asked in wonder.

"No," Severus turned away from Harry and Poppy to move silently to the door. "Hide him," he whispered harshly, looking back at Poppy.

When he reached the door, he pulled his wand out, just in case. One more look over his shoulder into the small living room told him Poppy and Harry were gone and he turned back to the door when a second knock came.

He opened the door so fast that he almost it tore off the hinges. "What!" he barked, holding his wand in the face of a young man who held a snow shovel in his hand.

"Um…, ex… excuse me, um…, Sir…" the young man stuttered and stepped two steps back down, away from Severus and holding the snow shovel in front of him like a shield.

"What do you want?" Severus growled, grabbing the door as it sprang back. He surreptitiously hid his wand. When the other man didn't say anything, Severus got impatient. "Speak, I don't have all day."

"You, umm…, you don't, um…, need a shovelling service, do you?" And with every second word, he had more hope that Severus wouldn't need his service and took a step back, down the path from the house to the street.

"No, I don't. And don't waste my time again with stupid questions like that!" Severus barked behind the young man, who by now, ran down the street holding his blue hat tightly in order not to lose it and, in the other, the snow shovel.

With a sneer, Severus slammed the door shut and turned back into the living room. Poppy had levitated Harry to the stairway, instead of going up the stairs. Holding her wand, she placed him back onto the sofa.

While glaring at Severus, she muttered. "You didn't have to be so rude to that man. He just wanted to be nice…"

"Poppy, just drop it. It could have been Lucius or anybody not so kind. This is a muggle neighbourhood." Interrupting her growling, he turned back to the sleeping child on the sofa.

Absently, he laid his hand on Harry's forehead. _'Poor child,'_ he thought. _'He must have been completely exhausted, calling for his dead father.'_ He remembered him calling for his mother on the graveyard after he'd found him.…

Poppy retrieved some tea cups from the kitchen while Severus sat down beside Harry. The skin, where the burn had been, looked healed. It was still soft, and lighter then rest of the golden tone of his skin, but it would heal nicely. Poppy had removed the bandages just before the Professor had come. "The healing balm is right there on the table next to you," Poppy told him when she returned to the living room area, placing three cups and a plate of shortbread cookies on the small table. Severus took the ointment and applied some very carefully on the child's cheek, chin, forehead, shoulder and neck. Poppy poured hot tea in two cups and sat down in the armchair. "How did it go with you?" she asked.

"All the same. Teaching those idiotic children, who just not want to learn…"

They were talking silently when Harry began to stir.

"Hey there, sweetling." Poppy went over to Harry immediately. "How are you feeling?"

Harry didn't respond right away, since everything looked like a big blur. Severus got up from his place where he'd sat next to Harry, grabbed the boy's glasses and handed them to Poppy. She moved next to Harry, where Severus had sat before and placed the glasses on the child's face, who looked at her with big, emerald green eyes. She was wondering what he was searching for.

"Dad-man?" he whispered so quietly she did not understand him.

But she did realize he wanted to say something. Severus did, too, and got some room temperature water for the child and handed the glass to Poppy. She pushed his head up a bit to let him sip the water.

"Here, my darling. Now there, slowly. Good boy, there you go…" she mumbled along until he had enough.

Severus was standing by the fireplace, watching Poppy and feeling a little awkward.

It's one thing to wish for a child and miss what you never had. But here was a child he actually felt himself caring for. He had promised to keep this child safe. He wished again for the thousandth time, Lily had never died and had stayed with him instead of marrying that 'wanna-be-a-hero-marauder James'. He felt the longing for a different life close up his heart. He must take time to think. Either he would bring the child back soon and please Albus or he would keep Harry forever, in the name of Lily, as his own. If he decided to return the boy to his relatives, then it had to be soon. If he chose to keep him, then he needed to take Harry shopping for decent clothes and he would need a solution at where the child would be when he had to teach. Normally, school-age children not old enough to go to Hogwarts were home schooled. Very few children go to a local muggle school.

'_Maybe I __could just take him with me and have the house-elves watch him. He would live in my quarters – but what if Albus comes to poke his nosy nose in my privacy again? I can't lock the child away – or hide his toys…' _He started to feel overwhelmed with his thoughts. He needed a solution, and fast. _'Perhaps I should just go and check on those wonderful relatives myself. Did they talk to Albus yet, worrying, where the little one had disappeared to? If they did, I would have no other choice…'_

He felt his thoughts turn into circles. So many if's, buts' and when's. And so many open questions. Like where did Harry get the burn from? How did the glass splinter get into his eye? Where did all the bruises and scars come from? Who taught him to act like a house elf and why?

He came back into reality when he felt a hand on his arm, someone saying his name.

"What?" he growled, still absent.

"Severus." Poppy looked like she had called him more times than just this. "You have to take over, I have to leave. I'll be back tomorrow morning. Harry needs some food and a good night's rest."

She handed him a vial with a sleeping potion in it.

"Fine," Severus grumbled.

Poppy went to the mantle and threw some Floo powder into the fireplace. Just before the fire turned green, Severus called her back.

"Poppy?"

She turned to look at him in question.

"Thank you."

She smiled at him, stepped through the fire and left Spinner's End.

- . -

Severus moved over to the couch, where Harry was still laying on a bunch of soft green pillows, his eyes closed. Carefully, Severus sat himself on the side of the couch, next to Harry, and took one of his little hands in his own.

"Hello," he whispered and looked at Harry's face.

The eyes opened and the small boy gave Severus a warm smile.

"Are you hungry?" Softly, he caressed the child's hand.

"I can't get up, Madame said my head will get dizzy…" Harry whispered back with a slight touch of fear in his voice.

"Why do you need to get up?" Severus felt confused.

"To cook…?" Harry was still whispering.

"To cook?" Severus astonished, repeated what Harry had said. "I didn't ask you to cook; I asked you if you were hungry."

Now, Severus growled at Harry impatiently and the child flinched back, to the far end of the couch. He no longer laid there relaxed and Severus immediately felt sorry for the inpatient tone of his voice. He swallowed and tried again, with a calmer tone.

"Would you like to eat something?"

Before Harry could answer in any way, Severus got up from the couch to move towards the kitchen. Over his shoulder he was telling Harry what he will cook for dinner.

"Mashed potatoes … meat balls … with rosemary – that will help your head and your nerves..."

Harry moved back to where he was laying before and kept looking with watchful distrust.

Severus set up, cooking with magic, and a few minutes later, he came back to the living room to let Harry know the food was on the table, ready to be eaten. It smelled delicious and Harry's tummy was growling. When he started to get up from his soft sleeping place, Severus came and stopped him.

"Just what do you think you're doing?"

Before he could flinch again, the Professor just picked him up and carried him to the small dining room and sat him on his chair at the table. Then he turned and sat down too. Without mentioning the earlier episode, the dad-man placed a glass of pumpkin juice in front of Harry, picked up his fork and began eating.

Harry still didn't move. Severus stopped eating to look at Harry and sighed.

"Please," the Professor said gently. "Please, eat."

He laid the fork back down, placed his elbows on the table to lay his chin on his hands.

'_Trust,'_ he thought. _'Mistrust. All right, I can handle that.'_

Out loud, he started to tell Harry about his day: the children he had taught, what could be funny, what wasn't and that his thoughts had been with Harry, hoping Poppy was successfully removing the splinter from Harry's eye. While talking, he picked up his fork again and finished eating.

Harry was listening, and deep inside, he felt the waves of fear calming and the mistrust disappearing.

When he placed his own plate in the kitchen sink, he realized his breakfast still sitting next to the stove.

'_U__h- oh,' _he thought, slightly shocked. _'Wasting food…'_

Severus had stepped into the kitchen, too, and followed Harry's sight to the stove and the bowl of porridge. "Your breakfast?" he asked gently.

Harry nodded and kept his head down. Severus waved his wand at the dishes to clean themselves and afterwards, they floated to the cupboard. He took the porridge bowl to see much the child had eaten and was surprised by how little that was.

He vanished the food with a flick of his hand and with a gentle scolding of, "You really should eat more," he scooped the boy up to carry him back to the living room to sit on the sofa, with Harry on his lap.

"Aren't you mad at me?"

"Why should I be mad at you?" Severus looked very relaxed at the little boy.

"For wasting food, sir," Harry replied silently. He wasn't afraid, but confused.

"Hmm, wasting food…"

Severus remembered a time when his father gave him a good bashing for the exact same reason. Wasting food. Harry knew about wasting food, Severus could see that. But no, he wouldn't beat a child because of not eating. He rather wanted to know why the child wasn't eating enough. He felt Harry tense up and gently laid a hand on Harry's shoulder to calm him. Suddenly, he had an idea.

'_Let's see if that would work,'_ he thought and with a wicked smile tickled Harry on his neck.

Harry giggled.

'_Yes,'_ Severus felt relieved as the tense feeling faded. _'That's the tone I want to hear.'_

He silently thanked his mother for using that on him before. Out loud, in a tone used for trivialities.

"How come you didn't finish your breakfast? Weren't you hungry?"

Harry tried grabbing the tickling hand, squirming on Severus' lap, but Severus moved his hand quickly from side to side, tickling here and there. After a while, Harry asked, laughing, for him to stop, and Severus did.

With a pulled up eyebrow, he waited for Harry's answer.

"I was hungry," the little one said, almost apologizing, "but then Madame came and said I was supposed to have a surgery. And then I just couldn't eat anymore."

Severus nodded.

'_Yes, that makes sense.'_

"I see," he said and looked at Harry. "But you know, breakfast is the most important meal of the day. That's where you get your strength from for the day. I want you to eat breakfast, lunch and dinner. And if you can't finish it, you may take a break and then return to your food." And with a chuckle in his voice, he continued: "I don't want you to die of starvation." He got serious again. "Is that understood?"

"Yes, Sir." Harry gave him a shy smile.

"All right, good boy." Severus petted Harry on his head as if he were a dog. "Now, I want you to go and get ready for bed." The Dad-man picked up the vial with the sleeping potion and held it in front of Harry's face. "Then you will drink this and sleep soundly until tomorrow morning."

"Okay."

Harry just wanted to get off Severus lap, when Severus got up with Harry and carried the little boy up the stairs. He left him by the bathroom door and went to Harry's room to wait for him. When Harry crawled into bed, Severus rubbed the healing balm on the child's wounds again before tucking him in. "How did your relatives bring you to bed?" he asked.

'_Oh no, what should I say now? I can't lie, not to him, now can I?'_

"Uh, well, they didn't, uh, do anything. Not with me anyway. I just went to bed after, uh, I finished my, well, chores…"

"Oh, all right." Severus felt a little unsure. There seem to be much more, but for right now, the child needed his sleep. He picked up the vial with the sleeping potion and held it in front of Harry's mouth. "Here, drink."

Harry looked up to the Dad-man, stopping the vial with his finger. Severus pulled up one eyebrow in question.

"Sir, would you please stay with me until I'm asleep?"

Severus was surprised, but not cruel. He squeezed Harry's hand.

"Yes, Little One, I would."

Harry gave him a relieved smile and drank the potion. When it was empty, Severus placed it onto the night table, sat down next to Harry on the bed and held the small child's hand until he's eyes dropped and he fell asleep. Severus took his wand out and placed a small yellow, glowing ball in the shape of a star above Harry's bed, on the ceiling. He put a charm on it to alarm him, in case the child would wake up during night. Then he caressed Harry's messy black hair, got up and went down in the basement, into his private lab, to continue working on the potion, which he had pretty much neglected since he'd found the boy.

_**To be Continued**_


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N:**

I'm sorry for the long delay. I want to give a **BIG **_**THANK YOU**_ to my betas Breanna Tala and Laurenke1, who are doing a wonderful job helping me. Without them, I would have given up at Chapter 10! Any mistakes you still may find will be my own.

"_**Thank you"**_ to everyone who's left and leaving a review! You are not just supporting me to keep up my writing, but also to improve my english, since I'm not a native english speaker. I'm sorry I'm not answering by sending you a PM, I just don't have the time to do so right now. But you should know that I really appreciate it!

- . –

I actually wanted to say much more here, but as it always is – now I can't remember a word!

**Be Warned:** Severus **and** Harry are OOC since I'm not J.K. Rowling! So are the other Characters! If you don't like it – don't read! And please keep in mind, there will be a character death coming up in later chapters!

_**x.x.x.x.x.x**_

**- . -**

**Chapter 12**

When Severus got up early the next morning, he didn't feel much rested. He had been working on the "Death's Return" potion until late, distracted by thinking of Harry and not getting any results with the roses. His thoughts were turning in circles as he worked.

He had to cast several stasis spells in order not to blow up the potions or the lab. He just didn't have the right rose. The graveyard roses were different, of course – they were planted with love for the loved ones, but the difference to other roses just wasn't enough.

He also tried using more than one, but the difference was too small. While working, he thought about Harry and what he should do. So, when he finally went to bed around two in the morning, he didn't rest very well and when he got up again at six, he felt more exhausted than rested.

He got ready for the new day and checked on Harry, who was still sound asleep. The alarm Severus had placed didn't go off, so the Professor cancelled it for the day. Satisfied, he went to the kitchen, got himself some strong tea and then moved into the living room to his favourite chair to do some reading for a little while, before he had to leave for Hogwarts to teach.

His eyes became tired from reading and the book slipped off his lap. In his dreams, he felt a little hand caressing his arm and some soft little body moving onto his lap, curling up, searching for his warmth. Automatically he closed his arms around the child to keep him safe and drifted off into a deeper sleep.

- . -

He woke up again when he heard the sound of somebody stepping through the floo.

"Oh my," he heard Poppy say. "That tired?"

'_Typical, that woman must have found me this way'_ he growled to himself. _'How embarrassing must that be?'_ But Poppy hid her smile and moved into the kitchen to make some tea muggle way. That would give Severus the time to collect himself again. _'So cute',_ Poppy thought while pouring the water into the kettle. _'Just so cute. Like a son and his Papa'_

- . -

"Dad?" Harry was still half asleep when Severus moved the child's pointy elbow out of his abdomen.

"No, it's Severus," he growled at the child. But this time the boy didn't flinch. Harry gave Severus a sleepy smile and repeated, whispering, "Severus." Instead of waking up, he snuggled himself closer to Severus and drifted off into sleep again. Astonished, Severus held the sleeping child in his arms.

"Come on, child, it's time to wake up."

"I'm dreaming," the boy whispered, his eyes still closed. The dark patch on his glasses was gone.

"What are you dreaming about?" Severus felt himself being curious on one side, nerved on the other, but for some reason, also very peaceful.

"I'm having a family." The boy kept whispering.

"Don't you have one?" Severus said quietly into Harry's ear.

"No, not one that loves me."

"Doesn't your family love you?"

"No, they hate me."

"Why?"

"I'm a freak."

"Why are you a freak?" Severus tried really hard to stay calm and still whispering. He felt more like screaming. Freak! They called this little innocent child a freak?

"Things happen."

"Like what?"

"Well, Aunt Petunia cut my hair one day and the next day it had grown back the way it looked before she cut it." He sighed.

'_Ahhh, accidental magic. Good.' _Severus smiled. "That's called magic," he whispered into Harry's ear, chuckling.

"Magic?" Harry opened his eyes and green emeralds were staring at Severus. "How can I do magic?" He was no longer whispering.

"You're wizard," Poppy said while sitting herself on the sofa. She placed a tray she had levitated from the kitchen, with the teapot, three cups and a plate of small scones on it, on the little table. While she poured the tea into the cups she had answered Harry's question.

"But, I… how is this possible?"

"There are magic and nonmagical people in this world. Nonmagic people are called muggles, magic people are witches and wizards," Severus explained.

"And you do magic, too?"

"All the time." Severus shook his head in disbelieve. The child had been with him now for more than four days and didn't realize that he was in a magical household? His view fell on Harry's bare feet. "Watch," he said and took one of the napkins leftover from the last tea.

Harry was still snuggled into him, listening to his heartbeat, with Severus' left arm still around the child. With his right hand, he got his wand out of his left sleeve and with a mumbled charm, changed the napkin in to a pair of thick forest green socks.

While he helped Harry to pull them over the child's naked feet, Harry stared at Severus as if the Dad-man had grown a second head. Completely speechless. In his head, his thoughts were, at first, just blank. But then his brain started working again. _'Cool,'_ he thought. _'That's really, really neat. Magic. I am a wizard. I'm a wizard, too? How can I be a wizard? And how do they know…'_ But before he could ask any questions, Severus held up his hand.

"Wait," he said. "I will answer all your questions, but first I want you to get dressed. Something warm." And with that, Severus placed the small child on his feet and got up himself. He went to the fireplace, taking some floo powder. Just before he could throw it into the fireplace to call Albus, he heard the boy asking uncertainly: "Are you leaving?" He turned to look at Harry and scowled at him: "Didn't I just tell you to go and get dressed? And no, I'm not leaving." Harry gave him a relieved smile and ran up the stairs to get dressed while Poppy was sitting on the sofa, laughing. When Severus gave her an annoyed look, she hid her laugh behind her hand, which didn't help much.

- . -

When Harry came back, dressed, jumping down the stairs in complete happiness, Poppy and Severus were sitting on the sofa and chair, talking silently. Poppy was still grinning and Severus frowned at her. Harry kept on running around the sofa and jumped onto Severus' lap, hugging the man to complete his stop.

"Uff," Severus said, closing the arms around Harry, while Harry knelt on his lap whispering a happy "Severus," in Severus' ear.

"Breakfast time," Severus whispered back, shaking his head in disbelieve of himself. A child hopping on him like on a trampoline – without even a hint of punishment! _'I'm getting soft.'_ he thought, disgusted.

Getting up, Harry and Severus moved into the dining room to eat. Poppy joined them with a cup of tea and some scones. Harry managed to finish his porridge today, which was only about half the bowl, but he also ate a slice of buttered toast with honey and a sliced apple with cinnamon sprinkled on it. Severus sat on the other side of the table, across from him, with a full bowl of porridge, a few slices of toast with sausages, eggs and some fruit. _'Gee, if I ate that much I would burst,'_ Harry thought, snickering to himself.

Just then, Severus turned to Harry. "Harry," he said calmly, "I have to run some errands this morning. I'm not teaching today but I'll be back at lunchtime and while I'm gone, I want you to have 'school' with Poppy. You need to practice your reading and I want to see your writing. This afternoon, I have some plans for you."

Harry nodded. Severus went with his hand over Harry's mop of unruly jet hair, caressing it slightly and feeling a little awkward of doing it.

When he finished his breakfast, he got up to get himself ready to go out, talked to Poppy quietly, said "good bye" to Harry and threw some floo powder into the fire. "Dragon Alley" Harry heard him call and within five seconds he was gone.

Harry finished his breakfast, too, cleaned the dishes and got ready for school with Poppy. He had a feeling that school with Poppy would probably be stressful, so he went upstairs in his room, where he took a leaf of his flower. He immediately felt the familiar calming flow through him. Fascinated, he held the glittering flower in his hand before putting in back in the pouch. _'I wonder what ever happened to Sir Frederick.'_ he thought and absently scratched himself on the arm. Smiling, he went back downstairs to have 'school'.

He did reading and wrote on one of Poppy's curly papers, which she called parchment, and he was even allowed to use an ink-feather. Poppy taught him about green plants and magical animals. There were also talking of something called Quidditch and flying on brooms. For Harry, it was a busy and interesting morning.

- . -

So it was for Severus.

After Severus went to the Leaky Cauldron in Diagon Alley, he left the magical world to apparate to Privet Drive. He placed a 'notice-me-not' charm over himself and went to house number 4. The houses in this street looked all the same, like in Spinner's End. The difference was just that the people here had more money and the houses looked real taken care off.

Severus walked around the house once, waving his wand, scanning it. He noticed the garage, the shed in the garden, the flowerbeds covered with snow and the bare trees.

On the front door, he cast an "Alohomora" and silently, he stepped into the hallway of the house, closing the door behind himself. Having his wand on guard, he looked around. The house was empty, nobody was there, he was alone. _'Good,'_ he snarled to himself in his mind.

There was a stair way going up to his right, and a small window on his left. He noticed an empty spider web on the top left corner of the window. He moved further down the hallway and noticed pictures on both sides of the wall. Some of them showed a horse-kind of woman, who looked familiar, a fat man and a whale of a boy. Nowhere was a picture of Harry. Severus walked into the kitchen and noticed a stool behind the door, wondering. He looked into the dining area, living room and guest bedroom. He even went into the small guest bathroom, but in the whole downstairs area was no sign for a second child living here.

'_Perhaps upstairs?'_ he thought and went up the stairs. He found the main bedroom, a huge bathroom and two smaller rooms. One was definitely a children's room, the other looked like a storage room for mostly broken toys. But nowhere was a sign that a second child lived in this household.

That irritated Severus a lot. Maybe he was in the wrong house? He grabbed his wand a little tighter and said "Findus Harry Potter." Immediately, the wand was pointing toward the stairs. He followed it until he stood the middle of the stairs where the wand started to move and point down in the middle of the stairway. Severus understood right away: '_A hidden room! Well, that's smart.'_ No wonder he couldn't find any signs of Harry in this house. They're hiding him! Probably from stray Death Eaters.

He went downstairs again to search for the door to the hidden room. When he found it, he opened it, smirking. Obviously, those muggles weren't so bad after all. All those injuries the boy had must have come from fights with other boys. Albus was right after all, the boy didn't get abused. It had all been in Severus' own fantasy. He just needed to tell Mr Dursley to watch the boy a little closer. Everything was fine. He felt relieved – and betrayed. He had made a picture of the child in his mind with circumstances that didn't exist. That hurt. Before the pain could get any bigger, he pushed it away. He should be use to it.

He opened the door wider and felt for the light switch. He expected a big, warm and light room, full with toys and nice sunny windows, like the children's room upstairs had been.

But the room stayed dark. And he noticed that it smelled a little damp and moist. As if they had forgotten to open the windows for a while. Obviously, the light bulb must be broken. He also wondered why it was so dark. Somewhere in the back of his head, he realized that this whole scenery didn't fit. Something was wrong. Deeply wrong.

He held his wand out, in front of him. "Lumos," he said and the room was lit.

And he was more than just disappointed. He was shocked. Never, ever had he expected _this!_ What he saw made him really, really mad. His expectations were not fulfilled in the least. He was standing in a hidden room alright, but not one he had expected. There was no warm colour on the walls or huge sunny windows. No toys or a soft carpet on the floor. This was the Dursley's broom cupboard!

There was a shelf on the right hand side with all kind of cleaning supplies in it. On the bottom shelf, Severus found some clothing: T-shirts, jeans, sweaters, socks and underwear. There was so little amount of clothing, it all fit on one board. When he turned around to face the left side, there was a vacuum cleaner and next to it, a thin mattress on the floor, covered with a blue, dirty blanket. Above the small bed, were several pictures pinned on the wall: family pictures, a mother, father and a small boy in the middle, with black unruly hair and glasses, smiling happily. There was a picture of a flying motorcycle, one that was just black with a bright green stripe in it and one that showed the little one happy with other children. Each picture was signed with 'Harry' on it. On a cardboard box between bed and shelf laid a thin book. When Severus picked it up, some loose pages fell out. He opened the book and read the name someone had claimed ownership with: Tutli Turli it showed in thick blue marker. But he noticed there was 'Harri Potter' written underneath. Someone wrote the Tutli name on top.

Shaking his head in disbelieve, he laid the book down again and moved backwards out of the cupboard since he was too big to turn around in it without bumping his head on the low ceiling. While doing so, he realized there was no light bulb in the bare cable hanging from the stair way. To his horror he knew someone must have taken the bulb away. And this realization opened his eyes. The child was not safe here. He had been right, this place was an abusive home. The people did not like Harry. With his wand, he casted a 'past-view-spell' and at once, there were shades surrounding him. Small, glittery shadows of what had all happened here in the past. After a while he stopped the spell. He was getting overwhelmed. So many bad things had happened here, so much pain, so many tears. After he stopped the spell, he noticed a ghostly, glittery figure and he suddenly realized that he'd never asked Harry how the little boy ended on the graveyard. Why was he there? And then he remembered that actually Harry had told him of somebody named Sir Frederick who was a ghost. A strange feeling came up and spread in his chest. Something didn't fit with this. He needed to get out of here. But before he left, he decided to take everything along which belonged to Harry.

He conjured up a bag and placed all the clothes in there. He realized they looked more like rags than clothes and somehow he couldn't imagine that they would fit Harry. They seemed to be so big, and Harry was so small and skinny. He also took the pictures of the wall and while he did that, he wondered if Harry had any hiding places in here. When he had been little, he also had hiding places. In fact, there was one in his old room, the room Harry was sleeping in now.

After searching for a bit, he did find a place, too. Behind the cardboard box, very close to the floor. Under a loose board was a small blue paper box and a tan coloured envelope. The envelope looked dirty and seemed to be opened a lot of times. With fine blue ink it had written _Harry J. Potter_ on the front. _'Treasures'_, Severus thought smiling and a warm pain went though him when he recognized Lily's handwriting. He also placed those items in the bag, together with the pictures and the book. Then he shrank the bag and placed it in the inner pocket of his robes.

Waving his wand and muttering some spells, he cleaned this place up so nobody could ever track that he had been there. If the Dursley's ever realized that the clothes were missing, perhaps they would think that the boy had run away. And if Albus searched for the child on the streets, he'd never find him. In the meantime he could think of something for the boy. With that thought in mind, he closed the hidden cupboard door and left the house as neatly as he had found it.

- . -

It took him a while to figure out Arabella Figg's house. He was glad that it was almost across from the Dursley's. When he came closer, he recognized a kneazle watching him from the inside window sill. It looked like a grey tiger cat, but he knew the magical kneazles. The cat-like animal leaned its head to one side as if talking to him, but it didn't move.

Severus took the path to the front door, and knocked on the dark wooden door. For a little while, nothing happened, and Severus wondered if Ms Figg was at home at all. But then the door opened and Severus looked into the familiar face of Arabella Figg. He knew this woman, he suddenly realized and felt very relieved.

"Good morning, Severus," she said, recognizing him immediately.

"Good morning to you too, Arabella," Severus returned the greeting politely.

"What brings you into this area?" She looked at him curiously and opened the door wider to invite him in. He followed her into a crème coloured kept hallway similar to the Dursley's. He felt very awkward being there and the strange feeling he had got bigger when he entered her Victorian style living room. He felt like a rhinoceros in a porcelain store or a giant in a doll house. The furniture was cute and small, a nicely small rosé colour sofa on very thin carved legs, a tiny round table next to it and two armchairs across in front of a white wood carved mantle of a lit fireplace. Beautiful dark brown furniture, freshly waxed, the smell still in the air, standing on the long wall. _'That's how a grandmother's place must look like,'_ he thought. On the white wooden window sill, on a crème coloured pillow, laid the grey tiger kneazle looking at him. Severus wondered if it was smiling. He gave a glare back and the cat-like animal waved its long fluffy tail at him, but besides that, it didn't move. _'This is stupid, kneazle's don't smile,'_ this was silly and he was sure he was becoming soft.

"Would you like to join me in some tea?" she asked him, inviting him to sit down.

Very uncomfortable, he sat down in on of the surprisingly comfortable armchairs and declined the offering. "No, thank you, I just had breakfast."

"Oh, alright," she said and collected her tea mug from a round dining table on the other side of the sitting area and a plate of shortbread cookies. She placed it on the small table by the sofa and sat down, too. "What brings you here?" she asked again curiously. And suddenly, it hit her. "There's nothing wrong with Harry, is there?" And worry showed on her face. More to herself. she said, "I haven't seen him in over five days…"

Severus didn't really know how to start this, and realizing saying nothing would be rude, he said "Did you talk to Albus yet?" He really didn't want to talk about Harry, before he couldn't make sure what this woman would do.

Arabella sighed. "I talk to Albus all the time, but it doesn't change anything."

Severus felt alarmed. What should change? "What are you talking to him about?" he asked curiously.

She looked at him like if her thoughts were far away, remembering something. Taking her mug, she sipped a little tea and said slowly: "This is not a good place. He is not happy."

After an awkward silence he said, "Children are not always happy."

She looked at him in disbelieve. "Severus, Harry is not happy at all. He should feel save and loved, he is still so young. Albus did not do right, placing the poor child in the Dursley's care." She sighed again and quietly continued: "Harry is a wizard's child, the Dursley's hate everything that is different. Petunia has no love for him. When they go on holidays, Harry spends the time with me. When Dudley, their son, has his birthday party, Harry has to stay with me. And when this family goes out to have fun, you know, movies or dinner, Harry is not allowed to come along. Yes, Severus, he should be happy. And loved. And cared for. And he isn't."

Before the silence could built up again, Severus asked quick: "What about Albus? Can't he…"

Arabella waved her hand and interrupted Severus rudely. "He doesn't. I told him how they treat him. He does all the work in the summer; he cares for the garden, mows the lawn, rakes the flowerbeds, clips the bushes and cuts the hedge. He has painted the fence, shed and garage, all on his own without help. And when he isn't done in the evening, when his uncle comes home, he gets yelled at and punished." Her voice sounded very sad, and she looked at him with a serious look on her face. With a nod, he told her to continue speaking; he'd listen. That's what he came here for.

"A week ago, he was shovelling snow on the driveway. He wore no hat and I could see a bald spot right above his ear. Right here," and she showed him the spot on her head with her hand. "Dudley had stolen his hat right off his head. My, that poor child. It was so cold that day. He had no mittens, either…"

"There was a bald spot on his head?" Severus interrupted Arabella's monolog.

"Yes, there was. There was a good handful of hair missing. Dudley is a bully and pushes around all the smaller and younger neighbour children. And poor Harry, he gets him all the time…"

Severus didn't hear her anymore. His brain was moving like crazy. _'What could have caused the child to have a bald spot? And why doesn't he have mittens? Every little child has mittens. When I found him, he had no jacket, no scarf or a hat. And he only wore trainers…'_ His mind got taken back to only a couple days ago, when Poppy uncovered the abuse of the child. And now, Poppy had given her mornings to him for babysitting Harry, until he'd found a solution with what to do with the child. Severus knew that when there was an emergency in the Hogwarts infirmary, Poppy would be called by her house-elf and she would have to return to Hogwarts, leaving Harry behind alone. He needed a solution fast. He definitely did not want to return the child to his relatives. But he couldn't keep the child, either. This situation felt like a dead end to him. _'What could I do?'_

He realized he spoke the thought loudly, because Arabella stopped talking immediately, looking at him in question.

"What could you do?" Arabella repeated astonished. Great, what kind of mess did he drive himself into now?

'_Argh…'_ "Well, Mr Potter is with the Hogwarts Mediwitch, Poppy Pomfrey, right now." So, there.

"He is?" Arabella was extremely surprised. "So Albus took him after all? Is he sick? He's safe at Hogwarts, I am so glad. How is he doing…"

'_Hmpf, women - talking__ forever.'_ How much information should he give her? Albus knew that he took Harry and Harry is sick . . . fine, was sick, but only recovering right now. "Mr Potter is not at Hogwarts. He is with me."

"Oh." She shyly smiled at him. "Can I visit him? I would love to see him again."

Relieved that she didn't jump up, run to the floo to call Albus to tell him where Harry was, he nodded slowly. "Why don't you come tomorrow afternoon for tea? We are at Spinner's End."

"Yes, I'd love to do that. I'll bring some cookies. Harry likes my homemade oatmeal cookies so much." She gave him a warm grandmotherly smile. He felt warmth inside him with this smile. He'd never met his grandmother. _'Great, sticky sugar bombs in my house.'_

He rose to leave.

"Severus?" He turned to her. "Thank you for coming," she said, getting up, too. He nodded at her. She took a little porcelain bowl from a shelf next to the fireplace and held it out to him. Severus recognised the greenish-grey floo powder right away. "See you tomorrow. Please give my regards to Poppy and Harry," she said, smiling.

"Thank you, I will." Severus took a handful, throwing it into the lit fire and with called out, "Severus Snape, Spinner's End". He stepped into the fire and went home immediately.

- . -

When Severus stepped through the floo in Spinner's End, he was surprised that nobody was in the living room. Before he could panic, he recognized voices and laughing coming out of the kitchen. Relieved, he took off his outer robe and left it by his favourite armchair. Slowly, he moved towards the kitchen, not wanting to disturb them.

Harry was sitting on the counter, his legs tangling down, listening to a story Poppy told him while she was making vanilla pudding on the stove. She used some magic, but mostly she did it muggle style.

By closer listening, Severus realized Poppy was speaking of Lily. Harry was hanging on her words, smiling. This looked like he always had wished for. In his inner eye he saw Lily standing in the kitchen, cooking for Harry – their son – his and Lily's. He felt the familiar longing again.

Through this, he made up his mind. There was either returning him to the Dursley's or him keeping the boy. Giving up Harry? Returning him into the abusive house, where there are people who pull out bunches of hair? And nobody cared? When Harry left, then there would be silence again.

No, he'd never wanted the silence come back again. He couldn't picture Harry back at the Dursley's.

He will keep the child. Harry is his. His and Lily's. Lily's only little boy. He will look out for him, like he'd promised he would do, and care for him as if he was his own offspring. He felt relieved. And with a slight hint of a smile, he came closer to the kitchen, leaning on the door frame and listening to Poppy speak of Lily.

"… she was tall and she had beautiful red hair. Her eyes were green, just like yours and when she laughed, her whole face shone like the sun. And you don't believe it, sweetling, in her eyes you could see the sun, too. Always." She leaned over to Harry, touching him on his arm, looked really close to him and said in a serious tone: "When the sun sets, it doesn't just disappear. It moves into your mothers eyes, where it stayed the whole night. And in the morning, she woke up to set the sun back on the sky. And when the sun is tickling you, then you'll know that your mom is just thinking of you."

Harry picked up his skinny arms and laid them around Poppy's neck to hug her close. When Poppy retuned the hug, Severus felt a pinging inside of him. _'O Lily, oh, my Lily.'_

He must have moved. Suddenly, Harry picked up his head from Poppy's shoulder and looked straight at him.

"Severus!" he called out happily, pushed Poppy away and jumped off the counter, running to him. With a "thump" noise he was stopped by the tall man standing in the door frame. "Severus," he said, looking up to him with a glowing smile on his whole face. His eyes alone were shining like little suns with in him.

Then he fell forwards, hugging the man's legs tightly. _'Dad-man!'_ "Severus," he whispered happily into the Professor's legs.

Severus couldn't do any different then to caress the little ones shoulders, arms and head. He felt so touched, once again, and had no idea how he'd deserved it. He didn't. He just didn't deserve it. And with this thought, he felt Harry hugging him tighter and without thinking, Severus leaned down and picked up the small child. Harry's arms came around his neck and he was clinging onto him as for dear life. _'Yes,'_ Severus kept thinking. _'Home, you're home._'

They did not see or hear Poppy leave.

After some time, Harry relaxed his grip and laid his head onto Severus' shoulder; just like he had done with Poppy a while ago. Severus could feel the warm breathing in the gape on his neck_. 'Close, so close…'_ he was wondering about himself. Hugging a child, this child, was so normal. As if a closed door was opened suddenly.

"Harry?"

"Sir?"

Severus was smirking. _'Well, at least he was polite.'_

Harry grinned quietly. _'Dad?' _Hethought.

"Did you have lunch yet?"

"Oh, yeah, lunch." He picked up his head and moved his hands on Severus' shoulder. "Poppy and I made lunch. And vanilla puddeling for desert." He half turned around and showed with his finger in the direction of the table. "It's all set. Madame Poppy placed a warming spell on it." He turned back to Severus and looked into his face. With his right hand he was copying Poppy's hand movement. "It was a stasius spell." Severus tried to stay calm. But he had a hard time with it. _'Puddeling?_ _Little mistakes_ - _I should invent the stasius spell'_ he thought, inwardly laughing. He moved toward the table, setting Harry down on his chair. Surprised, he felt empty without the little body pressed on his. He placed himself on his chair next to Harry on the long side of the table. Then he looked over to Harry.

"All right, what are we eating today?"

Harry chuckled.

Severus pulled up one eyebrow.

"Rice."

"What, just rice?"

"You should eat with the weather."

Severus looked out the window quick. "Snow," he grumbled.

Harry snickered. "That's why it's called Snow-rice"

Disbelieving, Severus stared at Harry. "You're in the wrong story, child," he said very serious. "That's called snow-white."

"Ever tasted snow-white?" Harry was still snickering. "Would you prefer greens or reds with it?"

"Brat."

"Italian."

"Italy?"

"Here, see," and Harry stood up, walking around the table and picking up the tops of the serving bowls. There was the rice all right and with it green beans and warm tomato salad. "White, green and red. Madame Poppy said those were the colours of the Italian flag. Isn't it so?" He had an innocent look on his face.

"Yes, you twit. Poppy's right." Severus grumbled. "Shall we eat?"

"Yes, Sir." Harry happily climbed back on his chair ready to dig in.

- . -

When they finished their lunch and cleaned up the kitchen magically, Severus hung his outer robe up by the front door. He remembered the things he got from the Dursley's and took it out of the inner pocket. He enlarged the bag and brought it over to the sofa, where Harry had placed himself.

He had a little bit of homework to do, which he wanted to do soon so he could enjoy the afternoon with his Dad-man.

"Harry," Severus said, not wanting to scare the child, walking up to him silently.

Harry picked up his head to look at him curiously. Severus placed the bag next to Harry on the sofa and sat himself with a book, ink and quill in his favourite armchair.

Harry opened the cloth bag slowly and was very surprised to see what was in it. He recognised the clothes, but he also saw the book, pictures, and most important, the small paper box and the envelope. With a strange look on his face, he looked up at Severus. "Thank you," he whispered, touched. Severus had gone to the Dursley's. And he brought back all his things.

Taking the paper box out, he looked up at Severus. "How did you know where to look?"

"I guessed." Severus quirked his lips into a smile. "How was your day? Did you learn something?"

Harry smiled back at him, placing the box back in the bag, lying next to him. "Did you know that there are real centaurs and mermaids? Madame Poppy said that Mermaids can talk and sing and at the place where you work, they live there. Did you know? Did you ever see one? Do they talk to you? Have you ever…"

"Stop." Severus interrupted, slightly annoyed.

Harry's mouth closed like a mousetrap and flushed. "Uh, sorry, Sir. I didn't mean to overrun you. There was just so much." And he took the parchment off the table he was working on all morning and went to Severus, showing him what he had done.

Severus was very pleased to see that there was math, writing, some early stages of Latin, biology and history. While he was looking at it, he let Harry explain to him what he'd learned. "Very good," he said and Harry couldn't almost believe that the praise was for him. He felt very happy and stored that treasured feeling away in his heart.

- . -

"Since you have worked a lot, I was wondering if you want to join me on a trip to the attic. I have some books up there you'd might be interested in. Would you like to come along?"

Harry happily nodded and after stopping in the small guest bedroom, leaving the clothes and Harry's treasures, Severus opened a door behind the small bathroom in the hallway and climbed up a small and narrow stairway into the cold attic. The attic wasn't very big, but it was very dark and Harry was relieved when Severus cast a "Lumos" on his wand to light up this dark and uncomfortable place. When warm light filled the room, Harry looked around, surprised. The Dursley's had not much on their attic, but this place was great. It looked ancient. When Harry turned around himself, he saw several trunks, two built in closets, some empty shelves, boxes filled with books and papers, dusty frames with paintings and a hunters horn hanging on the walls, an old birdcage, a broken quill, some glasses and jars some empty and some with weird stuff in it, standing in a shelf. Next to it stood a broken broom, some suitcases, a rusty sword, a tool box, a wooden bow, a huge rusty iron sewing machine, a small box with sewing stuff, a wooden window frame without the glass, two old chairs, a box with Christmas decorations, some boots, a pile of odd looking dusty hats, a wooden sled, a pair of very old skies, a dog basket with a pile of pillows in it and on the far side from him he saw a baby bed, covered half way with a white sheet.

Severus moved around some boxes, mumbling something when Harry went closer to the crib. In the crib was a big blue box and next to it, on a pillow, Harry discovered a black stuffed animal in form of a cat. It had greenish-yellow eyes, and Harry had a feeling, as if the animal would smile at him.

"Dad?" he said, not taking the sight off the cat. Realized what he had said, he blushed and tried again, louder. "Severus?"

'_Oops, I hope he didn't hear it.' _

"Yes?" came the reply from the other side of the attic.

"There is a …" what was it? A cat? Perhaps a panther? Or could it be a leopard?

"Harry?" Severus' voice was right next to him, making Harry jump in surprise. He had not heard the Professor come. Severus followed Harry's sight.

"Oh, the kneazle," he said, recognizing and picking up the black animal. Thoughtful, he looked at it and realized Harry had followed his movements. He saw the look, a mixture between jealousy and longing on the small boy's face, when his sight returned to the kneazle in his hand.

"When I turned six, my mother gave it to me for my birthday. We didn't have a lot of money to live on. I had seen it in a store at Diagon Alley about a year earlier. Every time we went there, I had to stop and take a look at this kneazle. I had wished for it so long…." He quietly told Harry without knowing and lost in memory. Harry understood Severus feelings for it. The jealousy left his face and turned into sadness. When Severus snapped out of his memory, he saw the same sad longing in the child's eyes he had when he was five.

And after he had seen how the boy had grown up, he was sure that the child has had no stuffed animals to comfort him whenever he needed to be comforted. Kneeling down to Harry, he caressed the kneazle's head with one finger. "When I turned eleven, I had to leave for Hogwarts. I was big then and I couldn't search for comfort in a stuffed animal anymore. On the day I left, I came up here to place it in the crib, on this pillow. I said good-bye to him and I never returned. He was a good friend." Taking his sight off the animal, he looked into Harry's eyes, seeing a tear rolling down the little face.

"Oh, Harry, don't cry." Using one arm, he curled around Harry's shoulder and pulled the small child close to him.

"He must have been lonely without you. And who was there for you, if not him?"

"Child…," he now hugged the boy close to him. _'No,'_ he thought, _'no way I'm giving up this child. This is my angel, who ever had sent him, he's mine. I'll find a way, I will. He's staying right here, with me.'_

Harry hugged him back, sobbing only a little, once in a while, and laid his head right on the spot of Severus neck and shoulder.

Holding the kneazle in front of Harry, he said, "Do you want to take him downstairs with you? I bet he would love to have a warm spot in your bed." And more quietly, he added, "And in your heart." Harry took the animal and hugged it safely to his heart as if he would never let go of it again, not giving up the place at Severus' shoulder. Severus placed a kiss on Harry's head.

"Thank you," Harry whispered happily, looking up into Severus' face. The Professor smiled and with his hand, he went through Harry's mob of unruly hair. Flashing by, he remembered Arabella telling him about the bald spot on Harry's head. He made a mental note to talk to the child about that. And about what had really happen on the graveyard.

Smiling at him, he pushed the child a little away from him to stand up. "You're all right now?"

"Yeah," Harry nodded, the kneazle still pressed on his heart.

"All right then, let me check this box over there…" Severus smiled at him and returned to where he was before to keep looking at books. Harry stayed by the crib, silently talking to the black kneazle, telling him about what he saw.

After a while, he heard Severus calling for him softly.

"Yes, sir," he called back and found his way through even more boxes to where Severus was standing, waiting for him.

"Come, I think I found everything I was looking for." Severus took Harry by the hand and led him to the stairway. The small boy was very surprised when two big boxes followed, floating behind them. On the way down, he constantly turned around to see them. Severus got annoyed a little, but could understand the little one, too. Walking down the narrow stairs, Harry almost fell down a couple of times, tripping over his feet.

"Tired, are you?" Severus held tight on Harry's hand and in the other hand, Harry held the kneazle tightly.

"I would suggest you get yourself ready for bed. When you're dressed in your pyjamas, just come down to have some dinner. I'll be waiting for you." The Professor pushed Harry toward his room when they reached the first floor.

When Harry changed he felt a little dizzy and he had a tummy ache. He also discovered a rash on his lower arms. He gave the itching spots an absent scratch and with a _'Gee, I must be hungry. I'd better hurry,'_ he went back downstairs, seeing the two boxes sitting next to the living room sofa. He looked at them before he turned and walked into the dining area, where Severus was waiting with dinner.

"Can the cat eat something too?"

Severus arched an eyebrow. He just wanted to say something harsh when he remembered that this little boy was his. His and Lily's. His secret angel. When he was little himself, he would have never taken the kneazle with him to eat. His father would have taken it away and burned it, or something similar. _'Father would have thought I'm too old for a stuffed animal. But Harry isn't.' _"It's a kneazle." he growled absently.

"What's a kneazle?" The green eyes turned at him and had a very curious look in them.

'_Argh…'_ "This is." He pointed at the animal in the child's hands.

"Why is this a kneazle?"

"Ask Poppy." He growled darkly at Harry. Before he was lost his patience, he conjured up a small bowl and placed it next to the child's chair. "Animals eat on the floor."

"Thank you!" Harry grabbed around his legs for a hug, smiling up to him, and Severus could feel his heart softening. Without losing another word, he picked the child up to place him on his chair, the kneazle next to him on the floor.

After dinner and cleaning up, Severus brought Harry up into his room to get him into bed. "If you ever wake up at night, don't hesitate to wake me up," he said and showed Harry the door to his sleeping room. Harry brushed his teeth, and he smiled at the Harry in the mirror before he went to bed. Severus tucked him in tightly, caressing the black hair of the boy and touched the black hair of the kneazle. He set the alarm to work, and when he walked out the door, the child was already sound asleep, breathing evenly.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N:**

I'm sorry for the long delay. I want to give a **BIG **_**THANK YOU**_ to my betas Breanna Tala and Laurenke1, who are doing a wonderful job helping me! *BIG SMILE*

"_**Thank you"**_ to everyone who's left and is leaving a review! You are not just supporting me to keep up my writing, but also to improve my english, since I'm not a native english speaker. I'm sorry I'm not answering by sending you a PM, I just don't have the time to do so right now. But you should know that I really appreciate it!

I am so stunned; there are over 270 people who're keeping up with this story through some kind of alert! I never, ever guessed in my dreams, that there are so many who will like my story. I appreciate it and Thank you very, very much for making me feel so special!

- . –

I do not own "Harry Potter", nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this piece of fiction.

_**x.x.x.x.x.x**_

**- . -**

**Chapter 13**

The next morning, when Harry came down the stairs, Severus was already gone. Madame Poppy, again, sat in Severus' armchair by the warming fire, reading a book.

When Harry approached her, she greeted him: "Oh, good-morning, sweetling. Did you have a good night sleep?"

Harry felt a little annoyed of the way she spoke to him. Oh, for goodness sake, he was eight, not four! Thank Merlin he left the Kneazle in his bed this morning and not taken him down with him. Maybe Madame Poppy then would have asked if he needed a nappy change… Snickering inwardly, he answered her while he went to the breakfast table, where he discovered his half a bowl of porridge, toast and fruit.

"Yes, Madame, I slept very soundly." That was true, he did, but somehow, he was not feeling so good. At night, he had had some bad dreams, and now he had a light headache and his arms were still itching. But not strong enough to need medicine, yet. He also didn't want to take another leaf of the Flower just yet, so Harry decided to just ignore it. Either the headache would go away or get stronger, and if it did get worse, he still could ask for a potion.

When he was done eating, cleaning and putting away the dishes, he went back into the living room to inform Madame Poppy that he was ready for school.

Madame Poppy checked his homework and he listened to what she had to say about it. His thoughts drifted off sometimes and he had to push himself to come back listening to her to speak. When she was finished, they did some math and herbology. Just when they went into writing and grammar, they realized the red stone on Madame Poppy's necklace glowing. "Oh my, that is my beeper. She looked very serious at Harry. "Listen, sweetling, I have to return to Hogwarts, there's an emergency. I will be back as soon as I can, but you have to stay here. All right?" She was already walking towards the mantle. "Just finish the English and read the Chapter about the unicorns. Be good." And with that, she was gone and Harry was alone.

Soon, he finished his writing, but couldn't concentrate on the reading. He just couldn't sit still. He was listening for the floo to flare up or for any sounds from the street coming in. He felt a little strange, all by himself without the Dad-man. He was home alone before, at the Dursley's, but that was different. _'I wish this would be my home,'_ he thought, jumping up and walking to the kitchen. But it was too early to think about lunch, and just the thought of eating something right now, he also felt as if he needed to throw up. By now, he knew that the Professor did not want him to be his personal house elf, therefore he didn't have to cook something. Gladly, he went back to the sofa and sat down again. He still felt the slight headache and dizziness. For a distraction, he looked at the backs of all the books on the lower shelves. There were all kinds of big and thin books, but none of them sounded interesting enough for Harry to read. There was a book called "Advanced Hexes and Curses" written by someone named Silver Roy. Or there, this book, "Magic Mental" written by someone called Woody Street. Now that was a funny name. "Flowers and their Roots" from Anemone Tempest. _'Now that's silly,'_ Harry thought. He kept on looking and found a pretty thick book, "The Magical Book of Weather" by Mistral Storm. He started grinning. _'Mistral, isn't that a kind of storm? I wonder if there is someone called Blizzard or Typhoon.' _He was giggling now. Candace Quickly, Dragon Hyde, Teddy Rope, Leaf Spotted – was that a man or a woman? – Lilah Queen _'I wonder if there is a king too'_ and sure enough, he found a book called "Magic Chemistry Lexicon" by Even King. One shelf up, he found a book called "Rare Potion Ingredients" written by Leo Prince. On this shelf, there were only potion books.

He was laughing by now, having a good time. He forgot about his headaches and dizzyness, being alone or any strange feeling. He was jumping around on the bookshelves, making up a new game: When the last letter from the name of the author ended with E, he had to find one that started with E. Esther Altair for example and then Rhonda Rougna. There was an Albourne Hinrick, Koelbert Paul, Livius Leslie, Elvrun Mastiff . . . Shaking his head by the names he'd found, he went with his finger on the back of the books to find one that started with F. His finger stopped - there, Fanny McMournec. _'Oh great, who would call a kid Fanny? Poor kid!'_ Running around the sofa he sang "You give me no penny, I'll get you on your fanny!" After seven rounds, he got dizzy and tired and fell on the sofa, still laughing.

He tried to return to his game, this time with the name of the books. Like "Eastern Potion Ingredients Lexicon", "Nicolas Flamel and the Sorcerer's Stone – A history", "Uh, with Y" and after a long while he found "Your Potion Today" and "Yeti's End" ("poor yeti, whatever end they have,") and "Dragon's and Fly's", now he would have to find a book which name start with S. But he only could find a book named "The Sound of Snakes" written by someone named Salazar Slytherin.

Now, he wasn't just tired; now, he felt exhausted. Suddenly, he had the feeling he had to throw up. He jumped up from the sofa and raced up stairs to the little bathroom he used, just in time.

After, he cleaned his face with cold water, just wanting to have his Dad-man. He went into his room to snuggle with the Kneazle. He buried his face in the fluffy fur, but he still missed the man. Deciding that wasn't helping, he slid off the bed and went to the door he knew led to the Dad-man's room. Standing there a moment, he truly hoped that the Professor wouldn't mind. He pressed down the handle and opened the door.

Stepping in, he liked the room immediately.

On the left side was a big, comfortable looking bed. Next to it on the right side were some shelf's, covering the entire wall, surrounding a window. Behind him was another door, and next to the bed on the left was a closet. The whole room was kept in earth colours: dark brown, tan and green.

Holding the Kneazle tightly, he approached the bed, leaving his trainers on the floor neatly next to each other and climbed on the bed. In a corner, he curled himself up into a ball, his head on the soft dark brown bedspread, inhaling the Potions Master's smell of Sandalwood and Cedar. Holding the Kneazle close to him, he drifted off to sleep.

- . -

When the Professor returned in the early afternoon, he found the living room empty. There were no voices from the kitchen this time, and he had a very awkward feeling.

"Poppy?" Even before he called her, he knew she wasn't there. "Harry?" But no answer came. _'Perhaps Poppy got called away and took Harry along? But no, we'd agreed that Hogwarts is not safe for him because of the old codger. He must be here. Maybe he got scared and went into hiding…'_ He started searching the house from bottom to top.

Harry wasn't in the private lab; since there was a hidden door to it that Harry didn't know of, it would have been impossible to find without a password. Also, he wasn't in the kitchen, living room, dining area or guest bathroom. He must be upstairs. Severus climbed the stairs and checked in the little bathroom and Harry's own room. But the child was nowhere to be found.

Worry crawled into Severus' mind. He never did find out how Harry ended on the grave yard. What if he'd run away –

Like in the Dursley's house, he took his wand and spelled it to find Harry. The wand pointed to Severus' own bedroom.

Silently Severus opened his door. After the visit at the Dursley's, he didn't quite know what to expect.

But when he stepped into his room, it all looked the same as always. Now, he knew Harry must be in here, but at first, he did not see him.

When Severus approached the bed, he saw Harry curled up in it immediately_. 'Tired …'_ he thought and took the soft, earth coloured blanket he had on the foot of his bed to cover the sleeping form. He saw the kneazle in Harry's arms and smiling he drove his hand over Harry's head, caressing it softly. In his sleep, Harry leaned into the light touch.

The Professor didn't want to wake the child yet and he needed to talk to Poppy anyway. Leaving the bedroom door open, he went back downstairs to fire call Poppy and asking her about when she had left, if the child had eaten or needed something.

When Severus stuck his head through into Poppy's office, he saw Albus and Minerva sitting there and talking to Poppy. _'Damn,'_ he thought, but it was too late, they had seen him already.

"Oh, Severus, why don't you come through?" Blue eyes were happily twinkling in his direction.

"No, thanks, I needed to ask Poppy something …"

"Severus, where have you been all this time? Are you still working on that 'being-alive-for-just-an-hour Potion? You take it so seriously…" Minerva looked at him curiously.

'_Oh__, bloody joy. I really haven't time for this. Why did I have to run into those two?_' he growled inwardly.

She smiled at him naively and Severus felt harassed by her. Immediately, he had the feeling he had to defend himself. "Yes," he hissed at her. "I'm a potions master. And I'm no master for nothing. If you were a transfigurations master, you'd know what I'm talking about."

Now Minerva's eyes were glimmering madly.

Trying to calm them down, Albus looked at Severus. "You weren't there for breakfast or for dinner. And mostly not even for lunch, my boy. I think it's wonderful that you're inventing new potions, but you are a teacher at this school here, too and your brewing should be done in your free time and not where the students or staff could need you."

Minerva now looked very satisfied and Severus felt anger rise. Anger and despair. If Albus found out that Harry was still with him, he'd be in great trouble and the child would be back at the Dursley's immediately, without a second thought. He needed a good reason to give to Albus as to why he needed to spend his time away from Hogwarts and here in Spinner's End. Sealing his mind, he looked at the Headmaster and with a calmness he did not feel, he said "I'm working still on the potion and I needed to set it up here, because if it would blow up on me – and it did already, a couple of times – even when I'm not by it, it couldn't do too much harm. Nobody would get hurt. In the dungeons, it's just too dangerous since I don't know what kind of side effects it could have, yet. I'm at a very early status. For the safety of the children and staff members, the potion should be brewed here."

Albus face turned into a soft smile.

"All right, my boy. But I want you back next week. If you, by then, still need to experiential brew, you must wait for weekends, holidays or even summer."

Severus nodded, relived.

"But Albus," Minerva started, but Albus held his hand up.

"Minerva, just let the boy be." Turning back to Severus he repeated: "On Monday, you're back, Severus. No excuse then." With that he walked out of the office, followed by a frowning Minerva mumbling something under her breath.

Before Severus could cancel the call, relieved, Poppy came to her fireplace and said silently: "I heard it. You're lucky."

"Yes, Poppy, I agree. You don't have to come over the next couple days, and I will try to find a solution."

She nodded her head. "Are you keeping him?"

Slowly Severus inclined his head. He was not ready yet to talk about his decisions. So he just said:

"If I can, I might." Giving Poppy a hint of a smile.

"That would be good. For both of you." And after a while she added: "I had to leave him at 9:30 am for an emergency. He hadn't eaten anything. I'll be calling you tomorrow to see if you need me."

"Good. Thank you, Poppy."

"Good day, Severus." She smiled at him.

And with that, he ended the call. When he looked at the grandfather clock on his mantel, he was stunned that it was so late already. It was already after 1pm, Harry needed some lunch badly. He went into the kitchen to set up a soup. When he passed by the boxes they had brought down from the attic the day before, he decided to unpack at least one of them first. There were all his old books, mostly those he had read after the age of 10, but Harry would grow into them. He moved some books around on his huge shelf to make some room for the new ones. Satisfied, he went into the kitchen to store the empty box in a corner. The other box just had to wait until later. Now, he needed to make lunch and then to go and wake up Harry.

- . -

Harry was still in the same spot as to where he'd left him. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he shook a little on Harry's skinny shoulder, calling his name to wake him.

"Dad?" Harry said sleepily, rubbing his eyes. "Severus." He hugged the Professor tightly, while he climbed on his lap. "You're back," he sighed, relieved.

"Obviously, I am," Severus stated, his tone slightly mocking.

"Did you see Madame Poppy?"

"I spoke to her, yes. And you didn't have any lunch. Did you sleep well?"

Harry grinned and slid off of Severus' lap and shyly answered. "Yes, sir, I slept fine."

Severus got up, too, and went back down stairs into the dining room, followed by the child.

"You need to eat. Ms Figg is coming in a half an hour to see you. You can not see her with a growling stomach." While telling this to the child, Harry's face lit up happily.

"Ms Figg is coming here?"

"Yes, she is. Now eat."

"I like Ms Figg. Did you know that she has hundreds of cats? And I was with her whenever Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had to go somewhere. And she can bake wonderful cookies –"

"Harry," Severus glared at him. "When you don't have lunch, you don't eat cookies. You understand me?"

"Yes, sir." Smiling up at him, into his glaring face, Harry started to eat his soup.

Grinning inwardly, Severus said: "Besides, Ms Figg does not have cats."

"Yes, she does! Lot's of them…" Harry let his spoon drop on the table.

"Pick up the spoon and eat!" Severus scowled at him. "They are not cats. They're kneazles."

"But …"

"Don't argue. Kneazles, Harry. Just like yours."

"It's yours. I'm just borrowing it."

"Whatever. Eat."

Silently chuckling, Harry finished his soup and started on a sandwich.

- . -

When the grandfather clock on the mantle gave a deep humming sound three times, the floo light up and the grandmotherly type of lady came through. Severus, sitting in his favourite chair, relaxing after lunch, got up to greet her and sealed the floo. They needed no distraction. Harry came out of the kitchen, where he washed up and put away the dishes, to embrace her happily.

"Ms Figg, I am glad to see you," he said politely.

"Harry, I am so glad to see you," she replied and hugged him back. Then she pushed him back, still holding him on his shoulders, to look at him closely. "My dear, so are still so skinny. And pale. Well, you probably don't get to go outside a lot. It's so cold, too. And look at your hair, it grew back, too…" with her hand, she caressed softly through his hair. Harry just smiled.

While Severus got the tea and Arabella gave him a small bag of cookies, Harry ran upstairs to Severus' bed to get the kneazle. When he came back down, he went to show it to Ms Figg.

"Well," she said, looking at it from sides, "that's a very pretty kneazle. I have a black one too. His name is Mr Schwarz. What did you name yours?"

"Um," Harry didn't know what Severus had named it. When he looked at the Dad-man questionably, Severus looked down at him with an arched eyebrow, but gave no answer.

'_Oh shit, I need a name fast. I don't know what__ he had named him. I never asked' _He felt panic rise. _'Well, I could call him Snape, but I didn't want to be called Potter, that's no real nice name, it doesn't sound too good, but – ahhh, yes –' _Harry turned to Arabella and said smiling: "Professor. His name is Professor." Arabella returned Harry's smile and petted Professor's head.

When Harry looked over to Severus, he had a very strange look on his face. His eyebrow was arched so far up, Harry was afraid it would disappear in the Dad-man's hair. Astonished, he looked at Severus until he took his kneazle back from Arabella, who gave it to him, still smiling.

Going back into the living room, Arabella showed the cookies to the child, who happily took one to nibble on. Severus placed the tea on the small table and they sat down on chair and sofa to have tea, cookies and talk.

Arabella got her purse and pulled a thick envelope out of it, which she gave to Harry. "Look," she said to him, "I have some new pictures of Neil, Aranka and all the other children. I thought you'd like to see them. And Livvy -" turning to Severus she said, "Livvy is my daughter," then she turned back to Harry and gave him a thin book. "- she sent you this book. She said you might like it."

Harry gladly took the book. "The Wizard World of Knights," it said. Remembering his game from earlier, he checked the author: Caecilia Ravenhold Withycombe. No, he didn't know this person. He laid the book aside to look at the pictures. The children in the pictures were moving, smiling and waving at him. Surprised he pulled air in his mouth and almost dropped the pictures. "Look," he whispered astonished. "They are moving!"

Ms Figg smiled at him and the Dad-man was grinning madly. "They are magical pictures. Of course they move." He sounded like if the child was suppose to know that.

Harry picked up his head in wonder and Severus pointed in the direction of the mantel and the shelves, there were paintings hanging where people also moved in. Harry had never realized that part. "Oh," he gasped, and grinning happily, he went back looking at the pictures in his small hands. The background was very pretty; an old stone house and trees all around. Arabella took one picture and showed it to Severus. "This is Neil and Aranka. They are my grandson and niece. They have a house by Limerick, in Ireland. It's close to the ocean but very well hidden. They want me to come and live with them, and since I don't have to be there for Harry anymore, I am considering it –"

"Oh, can I come with you? I could meet Neil and play with him and Aranka and all the other children…" Harry interrupted happily, but still looking at the pictures in his hand.

"Harry, I wish you could, but you have a life here with Severus, now. And…"

'_Actually, th__at would be a good idea. But losing Harry all again…?'_ Severus was thinking.

"Look, Severus, this is Neil. He is only one year older then I am. He's Ms Figg's grandson. And this is Aranka. She is 8, just like I am. Don't you like her hair? Look how long it is…"

Severus got pulled out of his thoughts, when the little one placed all the pictures in his lap.

"When will you be leaving?" Severus turned to her. Arabella smiled at him and set the teacup she was just sipping back on the table.

"I was thinking of next week. Erik, my son in law, will come and help me move. He is a very good wizard and a teacher. He teaches children from the ages of 8 until they go to the higher classes. "

"Is this a wizarding town you're moving into?"

"No, there are muggle towns all around. They live in the Shannon Mountains, which is close to the ocean. The landscape is so beautiful. The sun rises over the mountains and it sets in the ocean. You have to come and visit me when you have holidays. Have you any plans for Christmas yet? Why don't you come and visit me? My family and the children will be very happy to meet you and Harry. There are nine children, enough for Harry to play with. I told Neil of Harry before; he'd love to meet him. Please, Severus," she laid a hand on his arm and looked at him pleadingly. "Please, come for Christmas. I would love to see you and my little darling again."

Harry grimaced at Severus when Ms Figg called him "little darling." _'What am I, a girl? Urgh.'_ But he smiled and nodded at the invitation.

"Well," Severus never went somewhere to see someone on holiday before. When he was younger, he went to Malfoy Manor a couple of times to visit his friend, Lucius, and now he would spend some days there in the summer to be with his godson, Draco. But he never before got an invitation to stay for the entire holiday. "Well," he said again, "we'll see, but I guess we could come." _'Before we leave the country, I have to go to the ministry to apply for guardianship for Harry.'_ He thought suddenly.

Harry jumped up and hugged Severus tightly and before he could reach up to stop the child from choking him, the little one let go and ran to Arabella to hug her too.

"We will go to Ireland, we will go to Ireland…" he sang, skipping in big circles around the living room, totally excided, but came to a sudden stop when he looked at Severus' face.

The Dad-man was growling at him.

But Harry was just too happy. He took his "Professor" and told him happily, with a big grin, that they would go to Ireland to visit all the children and Ms Figg on Christmas. And the "Professor" wouldn't even be alone, because Ms Figg has at least a hundred kneazles, too.

Arabella smiled and told Severus she would come over before she left England completely, in order to say good-bye.

"That would be good." Severus sighed.

Soon after that, Arabella left again, and Harry told Severus everything he knew about Ms Figg's family.

- . -

After a while, Severus went to the other box from the attic, which was still standing next to the sofa, and got out a very old chess set.

"All right, Harry, do you know this game?"

"Uh, no, not really. I know it's a chess game."

He came and stood right next to the Potions Professor to look at the set of very beautiful marble figures. Severus picked up the white queen and held her out for Harry to take. The small boy took the figure very carefully in his hand. He nearly dropped her when she surprisingly became alive in his small hands. Severus just couldn't hold in a very uncharacteristic chuckle.

"When I turned twelve, my mother gave me this chess set for my birthday. She had gotten it from her father when she turned twelve. I remember, I almost reacted the same way that you just did when the figures came to life on me." He gave Harry a warm smile.

Harry returned the smile and held up the Queen in the palm of his hand to look at her in a straight way. She was very pretty, ancient looking. In her curly hair, she had braided in beautiful little flowers and her dress had flowers in it, too. She also wore a small golden Tiara, like a band on her head. Harry was surprised when he realised that she had pointed ears.

"Hello," he said softly, thinking, _'Do all of them have pointed ears?'_

"Good evening," she said to him as quietly as he had.

His eyes turned away from her to meet Severus' gaze. The older man was watching him.

"I'll teach you." The Professor sat down on his favourite chair and placed the game on the small chess table, which had been standing unnoticed in the corner of the living room before. He gestured for Harry to sit down, too, and transfigured a cup into a second chair that looked just like his own. Harry did move closer and laid his hand on the table in order for the queen to step down and return to her place next to the king, who looked similar to her: ancient, with some flowers and a soft looking fur cape. He also had pointed ears. While she introduced Harry to the others, the little boy looked at each of the marble figures and smiled at them. There were ancient-looking towers, covered with climbing roses, the bishop were a pair of nice looking twin princes and the pawns were females, also dressed with flowers and fur. Each 'pawns' had a wolf with her, she was riding on. He was really surprised when he saw his "knights". There were no horses – the horses were dragons!

"Wow, they're dragons," he said with awe and looked at the creature's leather-like wings. "Can they spit fire, too?"

Severus gave a grin. "That would just be the missing part, wouldn't it? Then we really would have a problem." He started laughing silently, finding it hard to stop. The imagination of four fire-spitting dragons on the chess board was just too funny.

'_Did I say something stupid?_' Harry wondered, but didn't laugh. He felt hurt by the older man laughing at him. Severus saw the pained look in the green eyes right away. "Wait – Harry, look," he still couldn't stop snickering, at least. Severus put his hand on top of Harry's to get his attention and to stop him if he was going to run away.

"Just think about it. By the way, I do like the idea of fire spitting dragons. It could be a great damage, but it definitely would look good, though. I agree."

Harry gave him a shy smile. "Yeah, it would," he said and touched one white dragon with his left middle finger, smiling at it.

Severus started explaining the game. And while he taught, they played. The white queen suggested what moves Harry should make. He was really puzzled when he heard her voice in his head. "She's talking to me," he whispered, still not believing it.

"Yes, they do that. But only in the game. Just listen," Severus smiled "and learn. She'll tell you what to do and I can't hear it. It's the same way with her -" he pointed at the black Queen, "and me."

He showed Harry some interesting movements. The little one picked up the game pretty well. He had lots of fun talking to the white queen, too.

Then, during the game, Severus' "bishop," a very pretty princess in a long dress with golden flower buds on it hit one of Harry's dragons. The dragon picked himself up and, before it left the chess field, turned to the princess, silently opened its mouth and spit gold and red flames at her.

Severus couldn't believe his eyes. Surprised, he poked the dragon's tummy and ordered with a shaking head: "Do that again."

And the dragon did, burning Severus' finger.

"Ouch!" He pulled his fingers back.

Harry was as surprised as Severus was, but couldn't help snickering. Severus was completely lost for words. His mind was completely silent with astonishment. Finally, he looked at Harry. The boy had stopped laughing and was looking at him fearfully.

'_How did this happen? How did the dragon do that?'_ Harry wondered before becoming frightened.

'_Freak'_ he heard Uncle Vernon call him in his mind. _'Freak!'_ What would the Professor take away from him for punishment? There wasn't much he really owned. Maybe his paper treasure box, or his mother's letter? Or the kneazle . . . but that was the Dad-man's, anyway. Food! Severus could decide he wasn't allowed to eat anymore. Like the uncle Vernon had done, too, once in a while…

With all these thoughts, Harry began to shiver of fear.

Still stunned, Severus looked at his finger and then to the dragon. "How did you do that?" he questioned to either Harry or the dragon, but he was still watching the dragon. The little stone creature just shrugged its shoulders, as if saying, "I don't know."

Then Severus looked at Harry. He saw the shivering figure in the chair across from him. "Harry?" But he got no answer. Wondering, he stood up and went over to Harry, who was looking at him with fearful, wide open, emerald green eyes; his arms were up, as if protecting his head.

"I… I'm sorry, Sir. I… I didn't mean to do that. Don't… please, don't hurt me. I… I promise I'll be good. Don't send me away… please, Sir… I'll never… never do it again. I'm sorry, Sir…"

Suddenly, Severus felt like something hit him on the head. Flash, like he saw another little boy, in the same house, begging for no punishment, just like this one was. Shaking off the memory, he bent down to the little one to comfort him, but Harry flinched and instinctively made himself real small in order to secure himself. As if he was afraid Severus would hit him.

Severus drove away in shock. He wouldn't even think of hurting the child, not Lily's little boy! _'Oh Lily, why can't you be here? What shall I do? Why…'_ He had no idea what to do. Looking at the shaking, small, covered up ball in front of him, he felt so helpless.

He suddenly remembered the many times Lily was with him after he, himself, got a beating from his father. She had held him, telling him everything would be fine. _'Right, every thing was all right and then she died and nothing had been right since…'_ Before he got lost in his thoughts completely, he remembered the small child right here, right now, who needed him.

"Little One." he kneeled down next to Harry, laying his hand gently on the child's knee. "Hey," he whispered with a kind voice, and with a slender finger, he tipped Harry's chin up so he could look into the child's eyes.

Fear.

The Professor was definitely not one of the soft kinds. He knew where the fear that Harry showed so openly came from. In his mind, he once again cursed the Dursleys, got up from the kneeling position and picked up the boy from the chair. Tightly, he held the child close to his chest. The boy was crying, now.

"Shhh," Severus tried to calm him by drawing small circles on Harry's back. "Tell me, little one," he said softly. "Why – why would I punish you? What have you done?" Gently, he caressed Harry's head and the small boy leaned into his touch.

"I… I made the dragon spit fire." He barely heard the quiet whisper.

"Yes," Severus said with a smile "Yes, you did." Remembering how surprised he had felt after the little dragon burned his fingers, he started laughing.

"I'm sorry," Harry's arms went around Severus' neck and clung to him, as if for dear life. Severus returned the embrace and held the child close, like he would never let go of him again.

"I know," he replied, still laughing. "I know."

"Aren't you mad at me?" Harry picked up his head to look into the Dad-man's face, as if searching for something. Green emeralds met black onyx.

"Should I be?" he was smiling.

"Uncle Vernon would have…" the child's voice broke.

Severus knew what Vernon would have done. No, he wasn't Vernon and he wasn't Tobias Snape, either. "No," he said quickly. "I am not mad. Surprised, yes, but not mad."

The little boy laid his head back on Severus' shoulder, still hanging onto the man's neck. "I love you." Severus heard the faint whisper in his ear.

- . -

After they had dinner – it was a silent one, where everybody was in their own thoughts – they returned to the living area. "Care for some warm milky tea before bed?" Severus turned to Harry in question.

"Sure, please," Harry nodded and the older man got some new tea from the kitchen, along with two new cups out of the cabinet. One, a yellow one, he put in front of Harry and the other one, in front of his place by his favourite green armchair. He poured the tea in the cups, added warm milk to Harry's, a bit of honey and placed the pot back on the table, sitting down himself.

Arabella's cookies were still on the table and he placed the plate in front of the child. Harry smiled at him, took one gladly and nibbled away on it. They both were still in their own thoughts. Severus wasn't quite sure how to react on this sudden, awkward situation. "I love you." He could still hear it, whispered into his ear. Slightly uncomfortably, he got up from his chair and went over to one of the bookshelves to search for a book.

"Severus?" he heard Harry asking quietly.

He looked up, "Yes?"

"Have you read all these books?" he heard the little one ask shyly. His stare face became friendlier. "Yes, he replied, "I did."

"What are they all about?"

Now Severus had to hide a smile. "All kind of subjects, but mostly potions."

Harry didn't say anything for a while. Severus pulled out a small book from the bookshelf he had placed the books from the attic on and handed it to Harry. "Here, you might like this one," he said and turned back to the shelf to pull out a thicker one for him to read. He still needed to do research for his potion. Then, he settled back into his chair and started reading.

Harry leaned back into the sofa and pulled the book closer to see it. There was no picture in it, and the cover leather. In faded gold letters it said, "Charles Dickens". Curious, he opened it and began to read.

- . -

Somewhere around 8 o'clock, Severus looked up to see that Harry had fallen asleep, reading. _'Oh, what is with these children, that they cannot handle reading a book without either making noise or falling asleep on it?'_ he thought, first annoyed before getting soft. He shook his head. _'Exhausted, I guess.'_ He laid his book aside, got up from his chair and went over to Harry. The boy's head was resting on the back of the green sofa, the book open on his lap. Severus closed the book, leaned down to Harry and picked up the little child and his kneazle, which was on his lap, as if it had been reading, too. _'Professor,'_ he thought, astonished. Shaking his head, he also realized again how skinny and light the boy was. _'We will work more to fix that. The child is still too light. A fly weighs more…'_ he thought, confident, and carried the child upstairs into his little room. _'Harry's room,'_ mumbling: "So there," and let go of the child to put him down to bed, laying the kneazle in his arms. He took the boy's shoes off, noticing the holes in them and the general bad shape of the clothing all together_. 'Are these the clothes I got from his relatives house? Why does he wear these rags? Why didn't he tell me they were in bad shape?_' he wondered and silently, he said to the sleeping child: "Tomorrow, you will take a bath, and then we'll see if we can find some clothing that fits you." He covered him up and caressed his forehead before he left the room. Just when he wanted to close the door, he heard a sleepy voice saying, "Severus?" The Professor opened the door again a little, the door handle in his hand. "Yes?"

"What are potions made of?"

'_Huh, where did that come from?'_ But out loud he said: "Go to sleep, now. I will explain it to you in the morning."

"Okay," answered the little one tiredly. "Good night, Dad."

"Good night, Harry."

Before Severus closed the door, he heard the quiet and even breathing.

Severus turned to go down the stairs to read for some more in his favourite chair. Halfway down the stairs, it hit him_. "Dad?"_


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N:**

I'm sorry for the long delay. Do not worry, this story will not be abandoned. It might needs more time to get finished, especially because it seems to grow on it's own, but I will not let go of it.

I want to give a **BIG ****_THANK YOU_** to my betas Breanna Tala, jemovampiress and Laurenke1, who are doing a wonderful job helping me! *BIG SMILE*

"**_Thank you"_** to everyone who's left and is leaving a review! I appreciate it and Thank you very, very much for making me feel so special!

Please be aware of all warnings, and remember, I'm not J.K. Rowling, so the characters will be OC, of course. So are the surroundings. If you want Snape and Harry be typical "Rowling", you should not read this story.

Also keep in mind, that this is my very first try with writing FanFiction.

This is a Snape adopt Harry fic.

- . –

I do not own "Harry Potter", nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this piece of fiction.

**_x.x.x.x.x.x_**

******_ - . - _**

**Chapter 14**

** - . - **

The next morning after breakfast, Severus checked Harry's homework from the day before.

"What have you read about the unicorns?"

"Um, well, I haven't really read the unicorn chapter. I had a headache and I went to sleep, instead." Harry wasn't sure if the Dad-man would understand, but he hoped he would.

Severus was watching the child closely. Of course, he remembered how he had found the child the day before. _'Why does he have headaches so man__y headaches?__ He is too small. He shouldn't have any headaches at all. I'll have to watch him closer.'_ Out loud, he said: "I want you to read the chapter now and then tell me about it when you're done. Start."

Nodding, the little boy took the book, sat on the sofa and started to read.

- . -

After they had spent about three hours of more or less concentrated working, Severus called it to an end.

"All right, Harry," he closed the book and looked over to the child, who was scratching his arm. "Let's just stop here. I want you to go and wash your hands and we will have some lunch." He checked the time on the big grandfather clock and turned back to Harry. "And after, that I want to go to London with you. I need some things out from the apothecary and you need some warmer clothes."

The boy looked at Severus, shocked.

"What?" Severus didn't realize the look right away, not until he looked up to see the child hadn't moved at all.

"But sir," Harry got scared.

He wasn't supposed to have warmer clothes. Uncle Vernon had always said that a freak like him didn't deserve anything, especially warmer clothes; that would just spoil him. He remembered the day when Dudley's blue winter jacket had been too small for Dudley. He, Harry, had been happy, because the jacket was really warm and very pretty. He had tried it on; it was a little bit too big and the arms were too long, but it could have fit. Aunt Petunia was screaming at him when she saw him wearing it. She ordered him to take off the jacket immediately and throw it away in the bin. Crying, Harry had done it. The whole winter, he had been cold. He had gotten sick, too, but Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had just left him in the cupboard, snapping at him when he needed to use the loo or couldn't get up to do chores.

"What, Harry?" he heard Severus ask.

He needed to answer. But…

"I don't have any money," he whispered desperately. How could he do this? The Dad-man must think he would have money to pay for his own clothes, but he had nothing, no money – nothing, and he was nothing. He felt himself shivering from fear and cold, which was creeping into his skin. Before Severus could say anything, Harry jumped up from his seat.

"I have to use the loo," and he ran into the little guest bathroom on the same floor. There, he sat on the closed toilet seat for a while, trying to calm down. _'What am I going to do? How can I get out of this? He must know I'm not allowed to have warm clothes, he knows that I'm a freak…'_ Suddenly, it jumped into his head. _'The flower, I just take a leaf and I don't need any warmer clothes!'_ And with that he took the little pouch that was hanging around his neck and opened it to take a leaf. The flower was still beautiful, but thinner. The inner leafs were darker then the outside leaves had been. But the silvery shimmer was still there. Harry smiled at the flower and thanked Sir Frederick silently for it, saving him from the cold once more. He placed the flower back in the pouch and went back to the sitting room just to see Severus standing in front of the bathroom door, waiting for him.

"Harry," he said and laid a hand onto the small shoulder. "You don't need money. I will purchase everything you need."

"But…"

"Harry," Severus kneeled down to be at eye level with the child. "Children usually don't have money. And if they do, they only have small amounts. Enough to buy candy or a book or something like that. That's what parents are there for. Or other relatives. They are supposed to take care of you and your needs. And today, I will do that. All right?"

The child's head was bowed down. A lone tear travelled down the little cheek. The head nodded silently.

"All right," Harry was whispering, thinking, _'Now, I'm spoiled.'_ The older man just folded the small crying creature in front of him into his arms to hold him closely.

- . -

After lunch, Severus took Harry in his arm and wrapped him in his thick, warm cloak to apparate to a dark corner of muggle London. First, the child wanted to protest, but Severus just pressed the skinny child to his chest.

"Shush," he said, slightly annoyed. "I don't want to lose you on the way." So there was nothing left for Harry to do but to wrap his arms around the older wizard and accept the warmth, silently relieved in the bitter cold of the day.

Severus decided to take Harry muggle shopping first, because it would mean less stress for Harry. The child was in need of everything, from underwear to decent pants . . . even shoes. He had a long list of things he wanted to get. And he did not want anybody to stare at either him or the boy.

When they stepped out of the small street they had apparated to, Severus still carried the child.

"I can walk, Severus," the young child said into his ear.

"I know."

But instead of setting him down, he just held him tighter and transfigured his cloak into a long winter coat.

Accepting the fact that he was to be covered and carried, Harry snuggled deeper into the warmth. His body was warm, but the cold came to his ears, face and slowly down his neck.

With wide, long and even steps, Severus walked over the snowy streets. When Harry picked up his head, to look around and he noticed Christmas decorations in the shop windows.

'_Is it Christmas time already? I haven't cleaned the house yet, and haven't washed the windows. I need to clean the carpets and wash and iron the curtains. Dudley needs his Advent presents ready and what have I done? I have just disappeared. If Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon find me, they'll take off my hide. I've left them with all the work and all my chores. What about the Christmas feast? Who will cook it? If I'm not… but it would mean that I have to return. But then my Severus will be all alone, and Uncle Vernon would beat me for running away. And then I would lose my Dad-man. No, I don't want to leave; I want to stay here, with my Professor and my Dad-man. My Daddy…'_ All these thoughts were circling in Harry's mind while Severus carried him though the streets of London. He stopped in front of a huge building with wide glass doors. There were many people around, running in and out, with and without big or little bags. Severus opened the doors and warm air hit Harry's cold face. The older man opened his heavy coat and placed the child on the ground, taking his small hand in his.

"All right, now listen, child," he growled. Harry looked at his face, not flinching.

"You do not leave my side, do you understand? At any time!"

Nodding, Harry closed his skinny fingers around the bigger ones.

"Yes, sir," he said quietly and stared up into the serious black eyes that looked at him with a watchful expression.

"All right." The tall wizard tugged on the little hand in his and turned to the left, walking passed small stores on each side, towards a huge one on the end of the mall.

Harry looked around, inhaling in the surrounding decorations and busy people. In front of a toy store, he saw a mother with her little son standing, looking at a train set, the train moving around in a circle. He remembered Dudley found one under the Christmas tree a few years ago. The set hadn't lasted long, because the tracks needed to be snapped together and for that, Dudley had needed some patience. But Dudley never had been patient. The train and one little wagon had crashed when Dudley had sat on it one time. Harry remembered the fit after that. Not because the train broke, but because Dudley wanted to be on a train ride. And because of Dudley's fit, Harry had spent a week with Mrs. Figg while Dudley and Aunt Petunia had gone to visit Aunt Marge on a train trip.

Harry fell out of his thoughts when he realized Severus was not walking anymore. Looking around, he saw the older wizard standing in front of a shelf full of jumpers. He took a blue one out, unfolded it and held it in front of Harry. Thoughtful, he was looking at the jumper and Harry.

"May I help you?" A woman who had a strange relation to Aunt Petunia came around the shelf and smiled at the Potions Master, who slowly laid the jumper down.

Harry flinched back immediately, bumping into the older wizards legs.

Soothing, Severus' hand came to rest on the little boys shoulder, a short look to him from black eyes. Turning back to the woman who was waiting in front of them, Severus quirked his lips into a sneer and answered:

"No, thank you, we will be fine." With a frozen smile that didn't touch her eyes at all; the woman turned and left them standing alone. Harry felt relieved as the older wizard's thumb was stroking his neck soothingly.

"Now," the Dad-man took the blue jumper up again and held it in front of Harry. "I want to see if it fits. Try this one on, please." Harry did and it fit fine. Severus nodded at the little boy and smiled at him. "Which colours do you want?"

"Um," Harry did not know what to say. The blue one? Or red, or green? He didn't know.

Waiting a little, the Professor got a basket that was sitting on the side of the big shelf and placed the blue jumper in it. He also took a dark green one and a dark brown one and placed them by the blue one in the basket. Then he laid his hand on Harry's neck to lead him over to the t-shirts. He picked four and then they moved on to the pants. A while later they had also found underwear, undershirts, pyjamas and warm socks. The basket was pretty full already when they went over to the shoes.

"You need warm winter shoes, trainers and house shoes. The dressing shoes I want to get in Diagon Alley. Now, try these."

And Harry found himself trying on and walking around in new shoes.

"Harry, I want to pay for these clothes, then you can pick something you want to wear from this pile and we can throw these rags you're wearing away." Severus took the basket, where he also put the new shoes in, and walked to the cashier. Harry followed slowly.

When the older man turned back to him, they went to the rest rooms and Harry changed into new underwear, socks, a tan coloured t-shirt, black trousers, the green jumper and the new, thick winter boots. Gladly, the boy threw the old clothes in the garbage right next to the sink.

"Nice," the older man said, his arms crossed over his chest and nodding in silent approval.

Harry happily smiled at the older man and hugged him closely, feeling the man returning his hug.

"Thank you," he whispered. His heart felt tight. "Thank you, sir."

"You are welcome," he heard the man answering in a very deep, hoarse voice.

- . -

"Now you still need a warm jacket and scarf, hat and mittens. Let's check over there." The Potions Master had shrunken the new clothes and put them into his coat pocket, his hands free. Harry paced next to him, holding onto his hand, enjoying the time with his Dad-man and completely forgotten about his fears and the Dursley's.

They went into a smaller store. Everywhere, there were winter and Christmas decorations. In the back of the store, Severus found Harry's size. While looking at coats and jackets, Harry found a scarf in bright red and white stripes. It was about 10 meters long and after he wrapped it up around his neck at least four times the endings still followed him on the ground. With a red hat, Harry himself felt like Father Christmas. Severus had to suppress a smile when his sight fell on the little boy by his side.

"No red, child. Let's see, which one do you like better? The blue or the green one? Or brown?"

Harry focused on the coats in the Dad-man's hand. Shaking his head, he pointed to the blue one.

"No blue. I like the green."

"All right, then, you can go over there, and pick out a scarf, hat and mittens." His dark eyes were following when the boy went to the rack were the required articles were. He looked at some other items before he followed Harry.

Harry had tried on several hats and decided on a black one, the same with the mittens. But he couldn't decide if he wanted a black or a brown scarf, or should he take the green one? But that was too much green, wasn't it?

Just, when he wanted to turn to ask the Dad-man, he heard a familiar voice not far away from him.

"Mo-om, I don't want that colour. I want the red one."

"Duders, the red is too big. Look at this here."

"No-o, I want the red one."

"But…"

"When I don't get it, I will scream. I WANT THE RED ONE!"

"Dudley…"

"Hey Dud, look over here, what do you think of this coat…" That was Piers' voice. Harry tried to make himself small to hide in the scarf shelf. It seemed that this was the moment Dudley turned and saw Harry standing there. His eyes widened and a big grin came upon his face.

"Hey Piers, wanna go Harry hunting?"

"Dud, you're nuts? Harry isn't there anymore, remember?"

"Yes he is – look." And he pointed in Harry's direction.

With wide eyes, Harry looked around. Aunt Petunia and Piers' mom were talking on the other side of the store and had not seen Harry yet. And the Dad-man was nowhere in sight.

Maybe if he could sneak around the shelf, they wouldn't see him anymore and then they would think they had seen wrong. But when he turned, he almost bumped into Piers, who was standing next to the shelf with the scarves. Moving back from him in horror, and he turned around, seeing Dudley coming from the other side. Both boys were smiling, and the little boy was trapped.

Harry felt himself paling. His heart was racing and fear dropped into his stomach, making his tummy ache.

When the bigger boys came closer, Harry closed his eyes with pure panic.

"Help," he whispered and in his head was room for one thought only: _'This is it, this is it…'_ He started to shiver when he felt Dudley grabbing him, pressing him with his back on the shelves, making his back ache. He heard Piers quietly laughing, when the whale of boy held a fist under Harry's chin.

"Haha, you keep on doing that and he will pee in his pants," Piers was grinning.

"I wo… won't," Harry said with a shaking voice, full with fear.

"You will," Dudley grinned too.

Harry was shaking his head, trying not to show how desperate he was.

"He won't."

"He will,"

"He won't."

"Oh yes, he will." Dudley repeated slightly irritated.

"Let him go."

"What?" Dudley was looking at Piers in confusion. Did his friend just say to let him go?

"Let go of my child." The icy voice was just a whisper, but low and it sounded dangerous. Dudley took a step back, taking Harry along.

"I said, let go of my child." The voice was now beyond a whisper. It was like a velvet fluid that washed over the boys. Dudley let go of Harry immediately and moved away, completely shocked.

"But… but Harry isn't your child. He's a freak. A bad freak, because he'd ran away. My dad will beat him to death and …"

"I didn't run away…"

"Shush." Severus was real close now. His arms were crossed over his chest and his eyes small and watching Dudley like a fox would watch a chicken. Dudley felt more and more uncomfortable. Piers had moved all the way back, not wanting to be close to the scary dark man in black. Maybe he could sneak to get his mother, perhaps Dudley was in danger… but just when we wanted to move around a shelf corner, the man in black called him back.

"You're not leaving your friend, are you?"

"No-o," Piers was afraid.

Dudley didn't understand this at all. Here was Harry and as much as he saw, Harry was wearing new clothes and he also had someone with him who was watching out for him. But Harry wasn't supposed to have that. Harry had to go home to wash the house and get ready to cook for Christmas and what about his Advent presents? He hasn't seen any yet, and Harry was supposed to give one to him every morning before school. Maybe the younger boy had run away because he had kept all his presents. Which would mean that everything Harry was wearing right now actually belonged to him. Was the dark clothed man also a gift?

"You stole my presents," he hissed at Harry, who had took a couple steps back to stand next to Severus.

He didn't want to show his fear so openly, but he couldn't do any different. What if Dudley screamed? Aunt Petunia would be running to Dudley's aid, and then he would be seen and taken back to the Dursley's and he never would see his Dad-man again…

Severus had very similar thoughts. And he was not ready to give his child up anymore. Looking around closely, he pushed the small child behind himself and got his wand out. Pointing it at Piers, he mumbled "Obliviate."

Dudley's eyes went big, but he didn't move. He also got obliviated. Both of the boy's looked lost, like wondering what they had been doing without knowing for sure.

"Fast now," Severus grabbed Harry by his neck and went to cashier to pay.

"Dudley?" They heard Aunt Petunia say. "What's the matter with you?"

"I don't know," came the unsure answer back from behind the shelf. "I thought I was doing… something? What was I doing?"

"Trying on coats. Look at this one." Aunt Petunia's voice was fading away.

Harry had pressed himself all the way up to the older wizard, like he would crawl into him if he could. Severus didn't mind. He was relieved that they only had run into Dudley. If it would have been Vernon or Petunia – they could have been in so much trouble, and it would have been so unnecessary.

'_Perhaps I could legally become his guardian, that way no one would accuse me of stealing a child. And what would Albus say…'_ In his mind, he was grinning madly. '_Nah, where are those thoughts coming from? I would be a lousy father.'_ But the thought didn't leave his mind. _'What if - ?'_

He got taken aback when he left the store with Harry clinging on his hand and he heard a woman shriek. "Boy! Harry?"

"Hurry." He grabbed the child under the arms, holding him tight and hurrying down the aisle towards the rest rooms. In a darker corner he apparated home.

- . -

In the afternoon, Severus started unpacking the second box they had taken from the attic. Harry sat on the sofa, watching him in awe, unmoving.

In a small, dark brown wooden box, he found an amulet wrapped in a dark green velvet cloth. It was shaped like the sun, golden light sparkling in the light of the candles at the wall. In the middle was an oval green stone. The hinges made it possible to open in order to put something small and of value in it. He recognized it at once, and he knew what was in it, too. Severus laid the box into the second drawer of his desk and went back to the box, standing on one side of the sofa.

When he pulled out an old, silver inkwell and a raven feathered quill, he remembered that he'd got it when he first came to Hogwarts. He placed it on his desk. Of course, he knew he would find some things that had no value to him anymore.

He remembered the leather box with the small silver tin figures of dragons and unicorns very well. There were also some elves and dwarfs in it. His mother had given them to him on his 5th Christmas. His parents didn't have much money and that had made this gift even more valuable. She had told him that all small boys played with tin figures. Later on, he had found out that these figures came from his grandfather, who had played with them when he was a boy. Thoughtful, the Potion's Master wondered if he could give them to Harry to play with. But he decided against it. This was a special gift and it deserved to be given at a special time. And unpacking box from the attic – that wasn't anything special. So he placed the small box in the same drawer as the amulet.

He was smiling when he found the wizard card game; Lily had given him when he turned 14. He found some pictures of Lily and a thin, golden bracelet with an onyx stone on it that had been a gift from her. And some pictures he'd drawn when he was little. There also were a handful very pretty valuable stones in all colours and a cloth bag with Magical building blocks.

He found some letters for his mom he had written to her and some from other people who had written him. In a cardboard folder he also found some old Hogwarts tests, where he had gotten an O. He placed all the pictures and paper stuff in the folder and laid it in the bottom drawer in his desk. He needed time to look at them more closely.

In a black school robe, he found a dragon shaped, hand-sized crystal and a colourful wooden box with all kinds of little knick knacks in it: a fishing hook, several small pencils, the front part of a quill, a nice feather, a scull of a bird he'd found in the woods, one left dragon skin glove, some coloured glass marbles, a stump of a candle, a little wooden statue of a dog, a signet ring with the Prince coat of arms carved in it, a pencil sharpener, six silver buttons, two wooden cloth pins, a rusted matchbox car he'd found in the park, a bunch of colour pencils, some collecting cards from chocolate frogs, an old, golden pocket watch, which belonged to his father, a soft brush, a dull pocket knife, a little round box with a piece of heart shaped candy in it, a purple hair ribbon and a tiny envelope with a curl of Lily's hair. He was grinning, but when he found a small jar with a dried frog in it, he just couldn't suppress a laugh. That was the time when he had started collecting his own potion's stock and there were many stories, he knew Harry would love to hear.

'_The little one is always so eager of listening to stories. In this box are hundreds of those. I guess, I could tell him at least three "fishing hook stories" or "pocket watch stories" ah, and of course the "heart candy story". These here aren't just treasures, they're adventures.'_

He remembered when he was colouring the box. It had been a stormy winter night, when he couldn't sleep and he had started to collect these treasures. He must have been Harry's age that time. After looking at all these things, tracing one or the other, he placed the box on the far side of his desk, by the wall, closing it slowly.

Harry would have loved helping unpacking all these treasures, but uncle Vernon had always said that he was so clumsy, and the child just didn't want to break something of the Professor's treasures.

And the Professor had spent already so much money on him today and time. Now, he was just sitting here, cradling his kneazle, when Severus handed him the colour pencils and the magical blocks.

"All the children I know of have coloured pencils to draw beautiful pictures. And they also have blocks like these. I'm sure you figure something out you want to built with them."

The child took the pencils and blocks carefully but happy, as if he couldn't believe his luck. He placed the pencils on the table and moved with the blocks to the small soft carpet on the floor next to the warming fire, telling his 'Professor' what he was going to build with them. The blocks were small and square. They looked almost like the Lego blocks Dudley had had in his room.

For a moment he remembered uncle Vernon and aunt Petunia. What if Aunt Petunia had seen him at the store today? Would she have made him come back? Or was she happy that he was gone? But who was doing all the work now? And who was Dudley playing with? And did Uncle Vernon find someone else to beat up when something went wrong at work? And poor Aunt Petunia, did she cook her own meals now? He suddenly felt fear rising in his tummy. What if they would find him here, with his Dad-man, or worse, what if the Dad-man didn't want him anymore? He didn't even work here; there were no chores for him to do. What if the Dad-man just threw him away when he was tired of him? He wasn't very important, wasn't even handsome or charming. What if…?

He wanted to stay right here, with his Dad-man. Harry didn't realize that he was sniveling.

He realized it in the moment when the older wizard kneeled in front of him, squeezing him on both shoulders, whispering nonsense to him.

The child wrapped his small arms around him and pleading, "Please let me stay with you, please," in his ear.

"What were you thinking?"

"I thought of the Dursley's. What if they would come and take me away?"

"They won't. You are safe here, child. Do not worry."

The little boy snuggled closer to the older man, enjoying to just be held.

- . -

All the way, on the bottom of the box, Severus found an old – almost falling apart – leather book. There was no name or anything written on the outside. He opened it to search for the name and author. On the second page he read: "The Tale of Death's Return" by Severin Francis Prince.

'_Prince? This must be one of my ancestors.' _

With the book in hand, he sat in his armchair and started to read, checking on Harry first. But the boy was occupied in discovering how to play with magical blocks and was busy. That gave him some time to check out this book.

It was about the tale of a flower that Mr. Prince discovered in a small, African town while visiting the foreign country with an African shaman. He had been an explorer and had worked for a Scottish company of making maps from the world.

Through this flower, it was possible to either take or give life. It would depend on if it would be used in a potion or not, and in which one. That was the reason why the plant was called "The Flower Of Life". The man who had the flower was an old medicine man who had lived hidden in a small town. When Mr. Prince came back to the place to discover more of the plant four years later, the man was gone and with him the whole town. There was no trace of the medicine man, the flower or the people that once lived in this town. It was as if there had never been anybody, like he had imagined it. Mr. Prince never gave up searching for the people of this town, doing lots of research and that is how this book was developed. Through his questioning of people, he found out about someone called John Hawkins. The man was stealing people, whole towns. The people Mr. Prince was talking to described Mr. Hawkins as a monster, who would eat the Africans. Other's said he would sell them and another said this Mr. Hawkins was an alien and was taking the missing people to the moon. Whatever happened, there were hundreds of people, families – children, adults and elderly – missing, kidnapped.

And at that point, Mr. Prince spent the rest of his life time solving the riddle of the missing town and searching for the "Flower of Life".

In the back of the book were two potion recipes, of how to brew potions that needed the flower. Excited, Severus got up to get his own notes. The recipe for one potion looked familiar but still different. It's name was "Death's Return Potion" and it needed the "Flower of Life" as a raw ingredient.

Searching through his notes, he knew he had read about this particular flower before. There was just one of a kind, one that had ever existed and it was so long ago. He checked in the book and it was written 1579, he was sure this flower must have been lost. If he knew what kind of flower it was, it would be easier. But he didn't know if it was a lily or a lupine. It could also be a kind of nightshade. Or maybe a violet?

Who could know about it? Where would he find one and what happened to the flower after Mr. Prince was in that town the first time?

Now he had started to read the "Flower of Life" story and he compared it with the information's he had already. Maybe it was possible with this certain flower to bring dead people back forever? If that was possible, he didn't need to brew the potion, but he was curious enough to search for the possibility.

- . -

Dinnertime was a silent affair.

Harry was very quiet, not eating much and he went to bed pretty early.

Severus was with his thoughts at Mr. Prince's story and planned on retiring to his potion lab, that was hidden in the basement, for research after the child had gone to sleep. They put away the new clothes and Severus read a chapter of the book Harry was reading right now, the Dragon's Eye. It reminded him of the crystal dragon he'd found in the box today, and that Christmas was coming soon.

He needed to speak to Poppy, too, because he definitely never would want to lose this child. It would have been so close today, if Petunia would have paid closer attention. Thank Merlin she hadn't! Thinking he would be here by himself now, the child taken away from him, he felt his heart clench.

Looking up, he saw Harry breathing evenly, soundly sleeping.

Smiling, he marked the page where he had stopped reading and laid the book on the night table. He got up, placed a kiss on the child's forehead and activated the waking alarm on the star light above the bed.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N:**

**_First, my_****_ BIG THANK YOU's_**_ to my betas Breanna Tala, jemovampiress and Laurenke1, who are doing a great job helping me! *BIG SMILE*_

_"_**_Thank you"_**_ to everyone who's left and is leaving a review! I appreciate it and Thank you very, very much for making me feel so special!_

_Please keep in mind, that this is my very first try with writing FanFiction._

_-.-.-.-.-_

_My __very special Thanks__ goes to cara-tanaka, who was with me from the very first day and Chapter on and stayed loyally by my side. Very Hufflepuff! *:)* Thank you!_

_-.-.-.-.-_

_Please be aware of all warnings, and remember, I'm not J.K. Rowling, so the characters will be OC, of course. So are the surroundings. If you want Snape and Harry be typical "Rowling", you should __NOT__ read this story. And yeah, I don't own... you know that stuff._

_This is a Snape adopt Harry fic._

_-.-.-.-.-_

_If you have any questions or ideas, just send me a pm. Someone just gave me an idea how to make this story 5 Chapters longer. I might consider it. Should I?_

_When I'm not near a computer, I can think of 1000 things to say to you. Now I have the possibility saying something – and my mind is blank! _

_Oh, well. 'Sigh.' Thank you for staying with me!_

**_x.x.x.x.x.x_**

******_ - . - _**

**Chapter 15**

** - . - **

Harry sat at the breakfast table, not really hungry. He was afraid he would throw up if he ate a single bite. And he still wasn't feeling good; his head ached, the room spun, he shivered even though he wasn't cold, and the rash was still there_. _

He had eaten a leaf of his flower before he'd come downstairs, but he still felt weird. This morning, walking down the stairs felt like he had just climbed a mountain. He was exhausted.

But he didn't want to bother the strict Professor about not feeling good. The dad-man wouldn't want to keep a sick child, now would he? And Harry definitely did not want to return to the Dursley's. Besides, he always took care of himself. This time was no different.

The dad-man was reading a newspaper and Harry just saw the outside of it. Once in a while, the coffee mug disappeared behind it and came back, but the Professor kept reading.

There was a woman smiling at him from the front page, holding a small child in her arm. Underneath, It said, _"Should there be a permanent godparent's day or not? The discussions are open on page 4"_

"Severus?"

He heard a mumbled, "Yes?"

"What are godparents?"

"They're supposed to take care of you when your parents can't."

"Don't I have any?"

Severus didn't answer right away. He rustled the newspaper closed and laid it next to him on the table. His sight fell on the picture of the woman with the child. _'Ah, that's where this is coming from.'_ He could understand the question now. He sighed. _'Oh well, now was as good as any day,'_ he thought and looked at the small boy.

"Yes, Harry, you have a godfather."

"And why am I not with him?"

Another sigh. "He is rotting in Azkaban, Harry. He is a bad man."

The child looked at him sadly. "Do you know him?"

Severus had to suppress an evil grin. Oh, yes, he knew Sirius Black. He probably knew him better than anybody else did. But he didn't want to shock any feelings from the little boy. He hid any negative feelings and did his best to keep his face blank.

"Yes," he said hoarsely, "Yes, I know him."

Nodding his head slowly, Harry tried to think. He thought he saw something twist in the older man's eyes, before he gave the answer. He could have sworn there was loathing in the usually warm eyes of the professor. But when he looked now, he couldn't see a thing.

'_Weird,'_ Harry thought. "What is Azkaban? Is that a hospital? Is he sick?"

Severus felt relieved, glad of the control he still had. Of course, that's what a spy needed to have, and he wasn't a spy for nothing.

"No, Harry. Azkaban is the wizarding jail. And he isn't sick -" _'no, he is insane and an irresponsible criminal -' _but he couldn't say that, now could he? "- he killed some people and that's why he's in jail. He is getting punished. Do you understand that?"

Yes, Harry could understand that. But it made him sad, that _his_ godfather did that. _'Why had it to be my godfather? Why can't I just have a happy family?' _His thoughts kept travelling.

Severus felt sorry for the small child. There was so much he still needed to do and so much he regretted at the same time. There were the questions he feared written all over Harry's face. What would the child do if he knew what he, Severus, had done? Because of him, Harry grew up as an orphan.

'_I should dump the child somewhere and run. If Harry knew, he'd hate me. My angel would leave me – and I'd deserved it, too. I wish I'd never done it, I wish I could go back in time and change it, - I'm so sorry, my darling, so sorry… If I just could… '_ He kept on thinking, completely dissolving in it.

Harry snapped out of his thoughts when he heard Severus silently mutter.

He looked up, seeing the Professor's face sad. His hands had curled around his face giving it a desperate touch.

'_Uh, what's happening?'_ Harry didn't understand, but he didn't want his Dad-man to feel like this. He slid off the chair only to climb up to the man's lap and startle him out of his thoughts.

Severus' arms went around the child on his lap, and he held on tightly. He felt safe with Harry, consoled.

'_I need you,' _he thought desperately and pressed the child close to him, inhaling the boy's scent and closing his eyes. He smelled of the Lavender soap he used this morning.

Harry didn't mind to be held so close. He realized that something was going on with his beloved Dad-man and he wanted to give him all the comfort that he could give him and anything else he could possibly need.

After a while, Severus opened his eyes again and caressed the back of the child's head.

"You know, Harry," Severus was still somewhere within his thoughts, but coming out of them slowly. "I promise, when I think you're old enough, I will tell you everything you need to know about your godfather and your parents."

'_And about what I've done. You will hate me, I am sure._' He knew he didn't deserve forgiveness, but he hoped deeply that Harry one day could forgive him.

"I love you," Harry whispered in his ear.

- . -

"Severus?"

"Yes?" Severus was standing in front of the book shelf, searching for a certain book. "Did you know my mother?"

Looking at the child seriously, he answered slowly.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I did." He sighed and turned around to face the child. He could imagine where these questions would lead to.

"Madame Poppy said she was very pretty and she had a sunny smile…" his voice faded, longing for something he never knew.

"Poppy is right." Severus placed the book he had been flicking through back in the shelf and looked at the child, who was sitting on the sofa with a thoughtful look in his green eyes. Searching for something, Severus looked at the child closely. He was so much like Lily. The curious look in the eyes, the eager need of wanting to learn . . . even the way he asked his questions reminded him of her. The eyes, the small nose, the long fingered hands, the high cheekbones, even the ears the boy had inherit from his mother. Only the black, unruly hair and the need to wear glasses reminded him of Potter.

"You inherited her eyes," he said.

The child nodded. "That's what Madame Poppy had said, too."

"… and her smile." Happily, the boy gave him a sunny Lily-smile. Severus felt being touched again, and warmth spread within him. "You are acting like her, too. She wanted to know everything," he told Harry, who was sitting on the edge of the sofa now, hanging on his words, as if fearing that he would miss something. "Her world was full with questions and she was eager to find answers. Her favorite subjects in school were Charms and Potions. She was very good at them, too. She was an extreme kind person and she actually wanted to be a healer when she grew up. Her favorite color was a very deep purple."

Thinking painfully at the loss, he was silent for a while. He had not just loved her, he had adored her. He had never wanted to live without her. And he knew she had wanted him, too, but the Potter jerk had just been too strong, too macho, for their fragile, silent love, running over everything that had been in his way.

- . -

"Severus?" he heard the child ask quietly.

"Yes?" Glad for the interruption from thoughts, he faced the boy to give him his full attention.

"Did you know my father, too?"

Severus was quiet for a while. Yes, he had known Potter, he thought ironically. Better than anyone else had. He didn't want to answer Harry's question, but for the child's sake he finally did.

"Yes, Harry, I did."

"Was he your friend too?"

Severus felt as if a sledgehammer had hit him and he felt himself sit slowly down in his favorite armchair. Shocked, he thought, _'Why is the child asking me these annoying questions? Why did he have to have _this_ father? Any other would have been fine -'_ He had to say something before he got washed away by his hate – the child wouldn't understand! What if the boy thought his father was great? He felt overwhelmed with this topic and didn't want it at all. He just couldn't say anything nice about James Potter.

"Harry . . ." His voice disappearing, he sighed and tried again. "Harry. He and I were not friends. If you want to know things about your father, you should ask -" well who could he ask? The child didn't know anybody, except… "- Poppy." He sneered. There, he made it.

Sensitively, Harry picked up the strange mood and fidgeted nervously.

"Was he not a nice man?"

"No, Harry, he was not." Severus snapped at the child, regretting it right away. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he said calmer: "He had black hair, just like yours and he also wore round glasses, like you have. He played on the Gryffindor's Quidditch team and was a very good player. His best friends were Remus Lupin, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew. I was in the House of Slytherin, and friendships between two different houses aren't … easy." _'Ha, easy – impossible!'_ He tried to make a neutral face in order to not scare the child with his dislikes or loathing for James Potter.

"But my mom -?"

"Your mother was different. I knew her since she was five years old. We grew up in the same neighborhood."

Harry nodded. So, his dad-man and his real dad had not been friends. But he was sure that his two fathers would have liked each other, if they had been given a chance.

- . -

"Severus?"

"Yes?"

"What are potions?"

Severus looked up at the standing child in front of him with a book in his hands and sighed. With a longing look he laid his book at the table next to him. He had just found a chapter about the difference in the colors of roses to their strength. Facing the child, he said in his teacher voice: "Potions are magical liquids and balms which help for all kinds of sicknesses. For example flu, coughs, pains, and headaches, but they also can re-grow bones and they could help with blood loss."

"Is it hard to make them?"

The Professor had to suppress a chuckle. This talk was becoming interesting. "That depends on the Potion. There are some which are very easy to brew and some which take more skill. And some require a potions master to do at all."

"Are you a Potions Master, sir?"

"Yes, little one, I am."

Harry's eyes became big in awe and he couldn't stop himself.

"Cool."

Severus raised an eyebrow and Harry laid his hand over his mouth, silently chuckling.

He had been reading, but having trouble concentrating. When he focused too long at the same spot, his head started hurting and the room spun. He knew, he couldn't just go and lay down – the Dursley's had never allowed that one. Besides, who would care in the first place?

He needed distraction, so he wouldn't think about it.

Severus was just reaching for his book again when he heard the child ask: "Will you teach me too?"

Surprised, the Professor returned his full attention to the child.

"Teach you?" he repeated, astonished. _'Teach Lily's child?'_

"Yes, would you?'

Slowly, Severus nodded. He would. "Yes, I will."

"When do we start?"

The Professor's face got soft and a warm smile crossed his face. He recognized Lily's eagerness for learning in the child in front of him.

'_Hello Lily. It's nice to see you again,_' he thought happily, and it was as if he heard her laughing. "You are already," he answered the boy's question.

When he saw Harry's questioned face, he explained with a gentle voice and opened the book on herbs the child had in his hands. He pointed to a certain plant. "See this herb? The stem is pure poison. Don't touch it with bare fingers. Always wear dragon hide gloves. They protect your hands at harvesting. But the knots on the roots you need for several healing potions. The leaves you can eat if cooked and the flowers are also used in potions, but only dried. The seeds you can use for cooking, if dried. By learning the basic of all these greenlings, you are also learning about potions."

"What about – this one?" The child showed Severus a picture of a daisy.

'_Smart'_, Severus grinned. "The daisy is a flower for luck. You should also know the Latin names for all ingredients you have, so you don't get mixed up and because, if you are visiting a different country, you know what to ask for. For example, if you visit Hungary, and you need a Pepper Up Potion. Let's say you want to brew it on your own, and you go to the Apothecary and ask for a daisy, do you think they know what you're talking about?"

Harry shook his head. What was a daisy called in Hungary?

"You cannot learn all the languages. There are language-potions, but even those have to be made freshly. Can you see, it would be much easier to have one name for one plant that grows all over the world? Don't you?"

Harry nodded. Yes, that made sense. "Then I could go to China and ask for the same plant."

"Yes, that's right. So, if you are in Hungary, and need to brew a Pepper Up Potion, you buy a bunch of Bellis Perennis, a bunch of daisy's. So, what I want you to read this here, about these six plants, because they are the basic of the most healing potions. You need to make a sketch in your journal of the plants, which you will have for the rest of your life, with all the important information in it. Be sure you are writing neatly and that you leave room for more information you will collect as you get older. That is what you are starting today."

Now, Harry was eager to do it. He knew now why he needed to learn about the plants. Nodding, he sat back down again at the dining room table to keep on writing about the daisy, while Severus returned to his book, smiling happily. Strangely, he felt a weird dizziness to him, like he was floating and his heart was beating faster than usual. But it wasn't a bad feeling and he didn't think it was dangerous either. It was strange but unusual.

- . -

"Severus?"

They were in the kitchen and Severus was making lunch. He sliced a couple of tomatoes for Harry to eat now, so he didn't have to wait too long. Harry sat on the counter, with his legs swinging.

"Yes?" The Professor was cooking muggle way today. He placed the spinach in the small pot and heated the stove. The fish and the baby potatoes were frying in the back.

"When you were little, did you sit here to watch your mommy cook, too?"

'_Argh!'_

"Sometimes, I did," Severus said seriously, without any emotion showing in his face and looked at the child next to him. Now, Severus was suspicious about what would come next.

"Did she cook fish too?"

"Yes, sometimes." He tried not to show any emotion. Yes, he remembered his mother cooking when he was younger. Of course he did. He remembered her movements, the dark brown hair tied back with a dark green velvet ribbon. When she was cooking, the sun would shine through the window by the stove and the light would reflect from her hair. Her warm black eyes were laughing at him.

"Did you like it?"

"Excuse me?" He was shook out of his thoughts.

"The fish. Did you like the fish?" Harry was wondering. Where was the dad-man with his mind?

Severus stared at the small boy. What was he talking about? "What fish?" He asked, confused, and the picture from his mother dissolved into thin air. The emotion of emptiness – the feeling that something was missing – stayed. It was her kitchen, her pots, her recipe –

"Fish, you know, the one we're making," he handed Severus the glass with the spices.

"What about it?" Severus was getting irritated.

"Did you like it, when your mommy cooked it?" Harry didn't understand what was going on with his Severus, but he did realize he needed to be patient.

A small smile crossed Severus' face and a hint of something Harry couldn't recognize showed a moment in the back of his eyes.

"Yes," he said to Harry, "I liked her fish very much. I liked everything she cooked."

- . -

"Harry?"

"Sir?"

"You have to eat the potatoes, too."

Harry stopped moving the small potato from one side of his plate to the other, looking up. "But there's no more room in my tummy, sir." He placed the fork on the plate and folded with his head down, his hands in his lap. He knew that if he would eat another bite, he'd throw up.

Sighing, Severus caressed Harry's back of head. _'What am I'm going to do with you? You are still so thin…'_ "Child, you need strength to grow." With that, he summoned a nutrition potion and placed it in front of the pale child. "Please. Drink it. It's just vitamins and minerals."

Something in the dad-man's eyes made Harry down the potion. It tasted awful. Harry shuddered. Severus smiled again, this time of relief.

- . -

"Harry?"

"Yes?"

"What are you doing?"

Harry was standing at the kitchen sink, pouring water from one cup into the other while making strange sounds. He had a slice of tomato floating in one cup and he was scraping the rest of spinach off his plate into the other cup. Stirring it with a spoon, the water turned green.

Looking up at Severus, who just came into the kitchen to get some water to drink, he shyly said, "I'm a Potions Master, sir."

- . -

"Severus?"

Sighing, the older wizard turned his face away from the books he was sorting into the shelf. "Yes, Harry?"

The child had a blue pencil in his hand and looking at the Potions Master. "How do you know that I would be a wizard?"

Smiling, the older wizard laid the books down and sat himself on the sofa, next to Harry. "Because your father was a wizard and your mother was a witch."

"And that makes me a wizard automatically?"

"Well, no. But you told me yourself that you do accidental magic. For example, the hair that Petunia cut, and was back the next day."

"Hm." Harry nodded. Looking up to the other man, he said: "When I grew up, will I be as good as you are?"

Severus was almost flushing at those sweet innocent words. He felt his ear tips burn.

"You will be better." _'And stronger. And one day you will destroy the Dark Lord, and then peace will reign forever, hopefully. '_ He watched as the child got up and went over to the chess board to softly touch one of the dragon pieces.

With a hint of a smile he saw the child spin around; having the blue pencil in front of him like Severus would hold a wand or knights a sword.

"And then," the little one declared with a smile, "I will duel you!"

"You might," Severus answered and moved forward to tickle the little boy all over.

- . -

Severus was standing in one of the closets in the attic. Somewhere in here, he knew he had seen some clothes from the time he had been in Hogwarts.

Actually the child didn't need any more clothes, since they went shopping yesterday, but he wanted to take the little one to Diagon Alley after the muggle stores. But with Dudley and Petunia interrupting, Severus wanted to avoid any more stress.

Now, here he was, checking if he could find some more, nicer clothes. He doubted that they would fit Harry, but he knew a couple of shrinking charms he had picked up from Molly Weasley from the time he was working for the Order. He guessed one of Molly's sons must be Harry's age. At the plain thought of having a Weasley visiting Spinner's End, running around in his house, he had to shudder. He could see his godson Draco Malfoy befriend Harry, but he just couldn't trust Lucius enough. Even with the Dark Lord gone, Lucius was still an active Dead Eater, still meeting with the others, ready for the Dark Lord's return. He didn't want to think about what Lucius and the others would do to Lily's child if they would get a hand of him.

He snapped out of his thoughts when a bunch of muggle T-shirts fell on his feet. Pushing those thoughts away, he grabbed the T-shirts and laid them on a pile, together with a couple of black jeans. He remembered the time his mother had sat night after night at the sewing machine, which was now on the other side of the attic, and had sewn trousers and shirts for him. He pulled the smaller ones out now, to pass on to Harry.

Sometime, he really should take the little one shopping in Diagon Alley, he knew the child would enjoy it a lot. But for right now, he had enough of shopping. And the fear of getting caught with Harry was pretty big.

He took the clothes he thought would fit and went into Harry's room, looking for the child. He found him sitting on the window sill, drawing a picture of a tree with a purple bird in it. Hiding the smile that rose in Severus face, he approached the boy, placing the clothes on the child's desk.

"I found some clothes that might fit you."

Excited, Harry looked up and jumped down the sill, just to suddenly hold onto his head. Immediately, Severus was by the child's side, grabbing the boy by his shoulders, stopping him of falling.

"Harry?" Worried, he looked in the child's face.

Heavily breathing, the little one still held his head.

"My head ... is … spinning."

Severus trembled when he picked up the child to lay him in his bed.

"Stay," his voice sounded hoarse while he summoned a pain killing potion. "I want you to take a nap for a while. When you feel better in the afternoon, you may get up again. But now I want you to rest."

"OK. Will you stay with me?"

The painful whisper of the child worried Severus more than he was ready to admit.

"Yes, little one, I will stay." He took the book Harry was reading right now and started to read it to the child in a low, deep voice to help Harry to fall asleep. The boy was still reading "The Dragons Eye".

- . -

When Harry was asleep, Severus couldn't get up and leave. He stayed and continued watching the child sleep, his thoughts taking him along again.

Right here, in this same room, Severus had grown up. Harry was sleeping in _his_ bed, with _his_ blankets. He was sitting in the same chair that his mother had occupied when he was a little boy himself. And he had read to Harry out of the same book his mom had read to him when he was about Harry's age.

'_I wonder how this whole mess will turn out. What am I'm going to do with you next week, when I have to go back to work at Hogwarts? I can't take you along. And Poppy has her own things to do. If Albus gets any hint that you are still with me – Merlin! Maybe I should send you to Ireland with Arabella. You would be safe there. But I don't want to lose you. I need you – nah, I don't need anybody, but it's so nice having you, little nervy creature, around…'_ He laid his head next to Harry's, to look at him closely and to breathe in his scent. _'Lavender, defiantly,'_ he grinned into pillow.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N:**

**_First, my_****_ BIG THANK YOU's_**_ to my betas Breanna Tala, jemovampiress and Laurenke1, who are doing a great job helping me! *wave*_

_"_**_Thank you"_**_ to everyone who's left and is leaving a review! I appreciate it and Thank you very, very much for making me feel so special! I'm sorry I'm so lousy with answering personal, but I just don't have the time. I'm really sorry for that. _

_Please keep in mind, that this is my very first try with writing FanFiction._

_-.-.-.-.-_

_Please be aware of all warnings, and remember, I'm not J.K. Rowling, the Harry Potter world doesn't belong to me and the characters will be OC, of course. So are the surroundings. If you want Snape and Harry be typical "Rowling", you should __NOT__ read this fic. _

_-.-.-.-.-_

_For those who were asking how long the story suppose to be: right now I'm up to 29 chapters. Unbelievable, since I only had planned 4... But it could be longer, since I've gotten some new ideas._

_My best friend had asked me to 'save' little Neville, so I'm considering it. But it would make this story about 4 Chapters longer. I might consider it. Should I?_

_-.-.-.-.-.-_

_When I'm not near a computer, I can think of 1000 things to say to you. Now I have the possibility saying something – and my mind is blank! _

_Oh, well. 'Sigh.' Thank you for staying with me!_

**_x.x.x.x.x.x_**

******_ - . - _**

**Chapter 15 Second Par**

** - . - **

"Daddy?" There was a whisper in the small room. Small fingers caressed his face softly. Lightly, like bird wings, taking him along, dreaming.

"Severus?"

"Hmm?" Did he fall asleep?

"Did your daddy sleep with you like this too?" The question was whispered right next to his ear.

"No. My father wasn't a very nice man. He was like your uncle. Mean. But my mother, she was a very loving person. She did sleep with me like this, when I was little," he whispered back. _'Strange,'_ he thought, _'here, I'm the grown up, the parent, and I feel more like a big brother right now. Or a close friend…' _

"So you are like your mother, too?"

"I assume so. I definitely don't want to be like my father."

"I wouldn't want to be like my uncle, either." Harry scooted closer to Severus and cuddled close to him, one arm over the older man's chest, pulling him completely into his bed next to him. The dad-man just let it happen. Somehow, he also felt the need of cuddling the innocent child.

"Severus?" Harry was still whispering.

So he wouldn't disturb the special touch right now, the Professor whispered back.

"Yes?"

"What did your mommy look like?"

Smiling, he answered: "She was about as big as Poppy. She had beautiful long, dark brown hair and sparkling warm eyes. Her favorite color was a very dark green. She was very kind, like your mother and a wonderful cook. She liked sewing, too. Sometimes, she would work for the people in the neighborhood to sew things for them. Clothes and curtains or sometimes, when a new baby arrived she sewed baby clothing. Everybody loved her."

"What was her name?"

"Eileen. Eileen Prince."

"Eileen." Harry repeated the name in a whisper. "Prince. Wouldn't she be more a princess?"

Sadly, Severus kissed Harry on his forehead.

"Yes, little one," he whispered touched. "She was a princess. A true princess."

"And you are the prince." Severus felt Harry's lips on his cheek and for a moment he allowed himself to feel warmth all over his body. He cared deeply for this child. His child.

"You are the prince, Harry. And some day you will be king. And I am the knight who is guarding you, keeping you safe," he whispered in the true prince's ear.

"Can I do everything I want, when I'm king?"

"Yes, anything."

"Then I want to make you my daddy."

Severus pressed the child so close to himself, the little one had almost trouble breathing. A lone tear tickled down the older wizard's cheek. _'And I will make you my son.'_

- . -

"Harry?"

"Yes?"

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine, sir."

"How about going down stairs and having some tea? I want you to have a bath tonight. Are you hungry?" Severus stood up gracefully and looked down at the child, who climbed out of bed with a happy smile on his face.

"Yes, I'm hungry. A little."

Nodding, the Professor turned around and went down to the kitchen to get some sandwiches and biscuits and make the tea. For the child, he sliced an apple and sprinkled cinnamon on it. He also prepared some finger food of raisins and nuts and placed it on the coffee table. That would also be suitable for a light dinner. When he stepped into the sitting room, he saw Harry sitting by the fire again, playing with the blocks.

Suddenly, the fire turned green and Harry jumped up, scared. But instead of hiding behind the sofa or running up the stairs, he jumped forward, crouching next to the mantel.

Severus was worried what would happen if it would be Albus or someone else from Hogwarts, or Malfoy Manor – but to his relief, it was Poppy who stepped through.

"Good afternoon, sweetling, Severus," she greeted politely.

"Madame Poppy," Harry was happy to see her, and came to hug her tight, but let go of her right away.

Smiling, Severus nodded at her. "Would you like to join us for an early dinner?"

"Sure, I'd love to. Thank you."

Looking at Harry, she saw how happy he was with his new blocks.

"New blocks?"

Shaking his head, Harry told her of the box and where Severus had found the blocks.

She smiled at Severus in approval and turned to Harry.

"What are you building?"

"A castle." The child gave her a big and happy grin.

"Hogwarts?"

"What does Hogwarts look like?"

"Here, we'll show you." And with that, Severus pulled a pale green leathered book out of one of the huge shelves, called 'Hogwarts – A History'. He gave it to Poppy while she sat down next to the little one on the fluffy little carpet. She opened the book and on the first page was a picture of Hogwarts, showing all seasons. Poppy and Severus told Harry about this beautiful castle.

- . -

Taking a small sandwich, Poppy looked at Harry thoughtfully. But she was talking to Severus when she asked, "Will you keep him?"

Severus watched Harry a little, too, before he answered her question.

"Yes," he nodded. _'Yes!' _"Yes, I will."

"You should apply for his legal guardian."

"Yes, you might be right." And he told her what had happened when he took the child shopping yesterday, where they almost ran into Petunia.

"Severus, you must turn in guardianship papers soon, before Albus finds out. He will do everything to prevent you from taking him. But if Harry is already yours, there's nothing he can do. And he won't. Then you can take him with you when you're teaching, too. The elves or I would be able to watch him and he could stay with you and you wouldn't need to worry about him, then."

Now the older wizard looked at Poppy seriously.

"Will you help me?"

Smiling she nodded her head.

"Severus, how can you ask that? Of course I will."

They dropped the topic and Poppy told him of what was going on in Hogwarts and which potions she needed him to make.

Soon after that, she wished them a good night and flooed back to the Hospital Wing.

- . -

Eating a chicken sandwich, Harry looked at Severus, who sat relaxed in his own armchair, also eating a sandwich. The transfigured chair from the evening before yesterday was turned back into its original shape, since there was not much room in the sitting room for another piece of furniture.

"Severus?"

"Yes?"

"Can you tell me a story from when you were little?"

'_Huh?'_ Severus looked surprised at the child. _'Didn't we cover enough of this today, already? Can't I have some peace of my own?' _but he regretted the thought right away. This was Lily – Lily's child asking. The one that had touched him because he'd acted like his mother. No, he didn't want to turn that child down. Any other child he didn't care about, but this child, Harry, he cared for very much. He was the only thing that Lily left behind. The only 'Lily' he had left. And Lily herself wouldn't have asked that particular question, as she witnessed every treatment of his parents, especially of his father. But Harry wasn't there, then. He was there now. And Lily wasn't.

And right now, Harry looked expectant.

Severus just couldn't deny a story.

"When I was about 8 years old, I went into the woods behind the hedge that grows around the garden. I followed the little stream that's flowing right next to the hedge. I kept on walking for a while and the stream turned into a small river that went through a canyon. Right there, where the water would decline before hitting the canyon, there was a small waterfall and some trees growing in a circle. It looked like a green room." Yes, Severus remembered as he told this story about the green room. Thinking about it, he continued: "I use to go there with Lily a lot. It was our secret hiding place. We brought stumps and logs in there to sit on and for a table. We also had shelves in there, for knick knacks and all kinds of treasures. We went there a lot. I ran away from my father and Lily from Petunia. Petunia was a very jealous person. She always wanted to destroy our friendship, but she couldn't." Severus was grinning.

"You knew Aunt Petunia, too?"

"Yes, of course I did. She was not like your mother at all. She chased us all over the woods, but she never found the green room. Lily and I were hid in it so well that Petunia could stand next to us, only separated by the branches of the tree, and did not see us. We had to bite our lips to not laugh out loud and give away our secret place." Severus was deeply laughing now. So was Harry. He could imagine Petunia being upset with jealousy.

After tea, Harry went to play with his blocks again. His Professor next to him, of course.

- . -

"Harry, bath time!"

"All right." Not very happy, Harry abandoned the magical blocks on the floor by the fire, took the kneazle and followed the older wizard upstairs.

Severus made sure the temperature of the water in the bathtub was not too hot for the child. Since he didn't have any children's shampoo, he just used his own spice shampoo and soap.

"Harry, jump in and soak a little, I'll come back in a little while and help you with your hair and back. The rest you can wash on your own."

The child nodded and waited until Severus was gone to undress. He stuffed the pouch with the flower into his soft pants pocket so he wouldn't lose it and laid his clothes neatly over the bathroom stool.

Normally he wouldn't care much about his clothes, but Severus had just spent so much money on them, that he wanted to show his gratefulness with taking care of them nicely.

Then he made sure the water was not too hot or too cold before climbing in. He remembered several occasions at the Dursley's when Aunt Petunia had made the water so hot it burned his skin. Or when Uncle Vernon stuck him in an ice cold shower in the middle of a freezing winter. He had been so cold that he had continued to shiver for two days after.

When he settled in the tub now, he discovered two colored cups floating in the water and a small wooden sailboat with a red sail. Feeling grateful, he took the boat and pushed it through the warm water, playing silently. With the cups, he created waterfalls and waves that the little boat had to fight its way through and, for the very first time of his life, he enjoyed a bath.

After 20 minutes, Severus knocked at the door, reminding Harry to wash himself and that he would come back in 10 minutes to help him with his hair.

Sighing, Harry took the green soap, which smelled good, to wash himself. Surely, after 10 more minutes, Severus came back carrying a huge green, fluffy soft towel. He knelt behind Harry in order to soap in the child's hair when he discovered the fine white scars crisscrossing the small back. He remembered recognizing them when he first had found the child and Poppy was checking him over. But he never looked at them from so close a view. Barely touching his skin, he traced the ones by the boy's neck, causing Harry to flinch away.

"Stay," Severus growled at the moving child. _'If I ever meet these relatives – help Merlin, they will never, ever have a peaceful second again -' _

The child sat stiff in front of him, lightly shivering in fear of what was to come. What if the dad-man would wash his hair with a stinging soap? Or use hot water on him?

'_But he__ has given me the P__rofessor, and the blocks, and he let him play with this little sailboat… he can't be that mean – can he?'_ He needed to distract himself from these thoughts. This was the dad-man. He would never be like Uncle Vernon, he knew this. "Severus?"

"Yes?"

"When you were little, did you have baths here, too?"

"Yes, I did." Severus sighed. Grabbing the soap, he soaped the small ones back. He remembered good and not so good times in here.

"Did your dad wash your hair, too?"

'_Tobias Snape washing my hair? What a joyous thought,'_ he sneered sarcastically at himself. "No, Harry, he didn't. My mother did. Until I went to Hogwarts. I was too old then."

"Did you play with this boat, too?" The child held the wooden sailboat up in his hands for Severus to see. The Professor smiled at the memories he had when he was 9 years old and carved the boat that Harry was playing with now. He took the shampoo bottle and squeezed some soap into his hand. Rubbing the hands together briefly, he massaged the liquid soap into Harry's wet hair.

"Yes, I did. The wood is hazel and Lily made the sail out of a handkerchief. We were sitting on the canyon, right by the green room, when we made it. There was a second boat, which had a green sail. She had kept it. Often we went to the little stream in the woods to let them race. The winner would get a small wreath of flowers that Lily braided before every race." Thinking, he said slowly: "I think I still have one somewhere. It's dried and almost falling apart, but…" He now realized that Harry had turned in the tub, watching him closely with an eager look on his face.

Severus knew he would look for the wreath and he was glad he found the boat in the last box and given it to the child to play. He took the shower head and rinsed the child's hair carefully, doing his best to avoid getting water or soap in Harry's eyes and sting or burn them.

Harry felt like a prince in a fairy tale. Looking up like he was supposed to, he saw Severus' hands, holding the water away gently. He also noticed the Professor's long, slender hands and fingers. He was thinking about the potions those hands brew, and hoping he could do it, too, someday.

When the left hand came down to wipe escaping water drops away from Harry's eyes, the small boy saw an odd tattoo in the inside of the Professor's wrist. It was a skull with a snake slithering around, madly looking at him. Taken aback a little, Harry moved his fingers to trace it softly.

In shock, Severus dropped the shower head into the bath water and moved back, pulling his arms away completely.

Harry turned around in surprise of the reaction and so he could face Severus to see the professor's eyes narrowed, as if glaring at something that wasn't there, and his arms down at his sides.

"Severus?" The child said silently, afraid he'd done something, green eyes fixing on Severus' face. The Potion's Master didn't seem to have heard him at all.

Harry stood up, grabbed the fluffy towel, wrapped himself in it and climbed out of the tub.

Approaching the kneeling man, who now held his wrist with the other hand, Harry traced the face with calm silence. He realized that something very important happened here.

"Severus?" he repeated in an almost whisper. "What's the matter?"

"What?" the man snapped, causing Harry to take a step back. It was only then that Severus looked at him. "Harry," Severus whispered his name hoarsely. Harry's fingers began tracing the lines on the older wizard's face, like someone who was blind would do to create a picture in the mind. They swept over the eyebrows, forehead, cheekbones, nose, cheeks, mouth, chin and ears. As if copying a picture with both hands, always being watched by black eyes. Harry knelt down in front of Severus, who was still watching him, his fingers tracing the dad-man's left forearm, the Mark.

Severus couldn't move, not even if he wanted to. He felt as having no control over his body. His mind spinning, a thousand memories swirling in it. The Mark, that damn mark, discovered by the Boy-Who-Lived! By Lily – Lily's child. Oh, how could he ever have done what he did! He hated it! The Dark Lord, the mark, the prophesy, Albus and all the promises he had to make, the Order and mostly he loathed his life. Why couldn't he just be left alone? Why didn't the Dark Lord just spare Lily and taken him, Severus?

Harry gathered the arm with two hands, his eyes leaving Severus, but still watched by him, looking at the black mark burned into the pale white skin. He traced it lightly with his right hand fingers. In the moment he touched it, he saw a streak of green light flashing through his mind.

"Severus?" he whispered astonished.

"Yes?" Severus looked like he knew what Harry just saw. "It's a Dark Mark." Severus bitterly answered the silent question.

Green eyes returned to black. "Does it hurt?"

Severus had expected any question – but not one like this.

It hurt when the Dark Lord called his people, it hurt when strange people pointed at him, whispering bad names behind his back, it hurt when people he knew turned away from him, disgusted, it hurt when he had nightmares and it hurt when sweet little children discovered his bad side.

He felt tears tickling in the corner of his eyes, with this sweetly asked, innocent question. _'Oh child,'_ he was thinking sadly. _'If you knew, if you just knew what I've done! You'd hate me, you'd run -' _He felt the despair running through his body like a herd of galloping horses. _'I'll lose you, I'll lose you -'_ the thought just came to him.

"Yes," he whispered, his voice breaking, a lonely tear falling down his cheek. He didn't even know that he could cry. He thought his ability for it had long left him.

Gently, Harry took Severus' wrist and placed it on his cheek, watching Severus' eyes deeply.

In his mind, Severus saw the marking again, remembering the pain, and he remembered it flowing through him.

Turning his head enough not to break eye contact, Harry laid his lips on the mark, kissing it softly, barely touching it.

The green flash of bad feeling in Harry's head left immediately and made room for a golden glimmer. He felt safe and loved.

The moment Harry had kissed his Dark Mark, Severus felt peace flowing through his heart. A warm feeling, like a light, raced through his body, from head to toe, in his fingers, settling in his heart, a healing light in his soul.

"Harry-" he whispered astonished, overwhelmed by the feeling.

"Love," the child whispered back and stood up to hug him, feeling drained.

When little arms moved around Severus' neck, the older wizard closed his arms, holding the miracle child in the huge bath towel close to him. Once more he felt touched, the same feeling he'd felt in the graveyard… only days ago ... filling his heart. And he felt his own response to it, too afraid to name it yet, but treasuring it in his heart. He also felt the exhaustion of the child. Picking himself up from the floor, the child still in his arms, he carried him into the boy's bedroom and sat him on the bed. He took the soft pajamas, Poppy had transfigured for him and helped the still way-to-skinny child in them once he'd dried him off like a three-year-old. When he saw the rash, he summoned the healing balm and rubbed it in gently. But he didn't mind doing any of it. Harry was special. Not just The Boy Who Lived, but a gifted child, he knew this now. And with the knowledge of that fact, he also realized this child needing a very strong guardian. Through the peace he felt in his heart along with the treasured feeling he had within him, a feeling that he didn't want to name yet, he knew he would be strong enough, the right person to do it. He had promised Lily and to Albus to keep this child safe.

He suddenly felt as if he really were one of King Arthur's Knights of the Round Table, in silver green armor and a black horse, chosen with a special task – protecting the future king.

But right now, the prince was tired, eyes falling closed. He helped the child under the covers, tucked him in and as soon as the head touched the pillow, the watching green eyes closed and the little boy was asleep.

Severus turned the lights off and brought the damp towel back into the bathroom, realizing the water was still in the tub. He pulled the plug and with a sudden idea went down the stairs to his desk in the sitting room. He pulled open the top drawer and took out the small wooden box. Closing the drawer, he grabbed the small scissors and the tiny envelope with Lily's hair. Then he went back to Harry's room, where he turned on the small lamp on Harry's night table. It wasn't bright, but it gave enough light for him to see.

He placed the box on the window sill and opened it, moving the velvet cloth away. There, on green velvet lay the golden amulet with the green stone in the middle. Carefully, he moved the tiny snatch on the top and the locket opened. In it was a dark brown curl of hair held together with a deep green string – his mother's hair.

Swallowing hard, he took Lily's curl out of the envelope and placed it in the locket. Then he took some of his own hair and cut off a curl to place it in there too. When he closed the locket, he took his wand, placed it on the amulet, feeling the protecting charm his mother had placed on it. Thanking Eileen Prince Snape silently for it, he added a few more, pushing his love in it, making sure it would keep the little prince safe.

He took the amulet and approached the small boy, who was peacefully sleeping. He opened the chain and laid it around the small neck, closing it again and slipping it under the pajama top so it rested gently on the pale skin.

Then he sat down on the chair next to the bed to watch the child sleep.

He didn't know how long he had sat there, but when he finally got up, he placed the alarm above Harry's sleeping form, turned the light off and went back to the window sill where he collected the scissors, envelope and now-empty box. He looked outside into the cold winter night, happy for his little prince to be safe sleeping in his warm bed right now. He didn't really see anything but he had the feeling as if there was a flash of black, green and silver passing his eye and hearing a horse neigh.

'_I must be tired,'_ he thought, shaking his head in disbelieve. _'Imagining things.'_ With that, he turned, leaving the door ajar, and retiring himself for the night.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N:**

**_First, my_****_ BIG THANK YOU's_**_ to my betas __BreannaTala__, __jemovampiress__ and __Laurenke1__, who are doing a great job editing! *wave*_

_"_**_Thank you"_**_ to everyone who's left and is leaving a review! I appreciate it and Thank you very, very much for making me feel so special! I'm sorry I'm so lousy with answering personal, but I just don't have the time. I'm really sorry for that. Thank you for staying with me!_

_-.-.-.-.-_

_Please be aware of all warnings, and remember, I'm not J.K. Rowling, the Harry Potter world doesn't belong to me and the characters will be OC, of course. So are the surroundings. If you want Snape and Harry be typical "Rowling", you should __NOT__ read this fic. _

_-.-.-.-.-_

_For those who were asking how long the story will be: I got asked for saving Neville out of the hands of a manipulative Dumbledork. I will do that I guess, and will make the Story to be about 35 Chapters long. _

_For those who were asking how many times I post: Right now I manage once a month, because of studying, work and schooling. Summer's always bad. It will be getting better again in October._

_-.-.-.-.-.-_

**URGENT**_**:**__ As you have seen, I have 3 betas for this story. I do so, because english is NOT my native language. Now, my first beta, BreannaTala is moving and will __not__ be available for me until she's settled in her new home. That might be awhile. Until then I can't and will not post anything, unless I can find a substitute. If you decide to help this story and me, you will have to be good in grammar and spelling. Just send me a PM. BreannaTala is a great beta and I'm quite spoilt. ;)_

**_x.x.x.x.x.x_**

**x**

**Chapter 17**

First the alarm was just tingling. Severus felt it, but didn't realize exactly what it was. When it was ringing louder, Severus was projected back into his childhood, thinking of a muggle alarm clock. But he knew he didn't have one anymore. The ringing wasn't his doorbell, either; neither did he have a telephone. _'If Harry -'_ he never finished the thought. The waking alarm! _'Harry was awake!'_ Checking the time with 'Tempus', he was surprised to see it to be 2 o'clock in the morning. He jumped out of bed, not bothering about clothes or slippers. With naked feet, in a black T-shirt, soft gray pajama pants and wand in hand, he went to Harry's room, pushing the ajar door open to see Harry sweating with wide, glassy eyes sitting in the bed.

"Harry!" Severus held his wand at the night light to finish the alarm. Then he sat himself on the edge of the child's bed, grabbing the small shoulders with both hands, squeezing a little to show the boy he wasn't alone in his nightmare. The little boy flinched back.

"Child?"

Harry stared at him, and slowly, he realized Severus was there.

"I… I was at the… the graveyard."

"Little One," Severus said quietly. "You're here, with me, in Spinner's End. You're home." Home. Yes, Harry was home. With him.

"Sir Frederick was there."

Rubbing smoothing circles over Harry's back to calm him, Severus listened.

'_Sir Frederick… who is Sir Frederick? I know I have heard from him before…' _

"What did Sir Frederick do?" Severus knew from own experience that it was best to talk about bad dreams.

"He buried me," Harry whispered hoarsely.

"Buried you?" the Professor repeated astonished.

"He was there. I… I lay in his coffin, by his stone. He said it was a… a fair trade. He threw dirt on me. And it was so… so dark. And… and Professor wasn't there… or you… and… and I was… so alone…"

Tears were running down the little pale cheeks, the small body shaking. Severus saw it impossible to calm the crying child like this. He gathered the boy up in his arms and carried him down the stairs into the small kitchen. Placing the child on his left hip, he poured some milk in the dark yellow cup he found in the back of his cabinet, stirred a spoon of Honey and placed a warming spell on it. Carefully he held Harry and the now warm cup into the sitting room. He sat the cup down on the table and himself, with the child on his lap, in his favorite arm chair. With his wand he lit a new warming fire and cuddled the boy close to him. He took the cup from the table to let Harry sip the warm milk to calm down. The little one held the cup with both hands, sipping slowly and placing his head on Severus' chest.

"Harry?"

The child picked up his head to look at the Professor in question.

"Who is Sir Frederick?"

Harry silently gave the cup back to Severus, who placed it back on the table.

"He is a pirate."

Nodding his head, he gently said, "Please, little one, tell me about him."

Harry curled himself in again, his head on Severus' chest, listening to older man's heartbeat, the small hands searching for physical warmth.

Sighing, he said, "He had visited me at Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. He took me along to the graveyard. And there, you found me."

"I thought your relatives 'forgot' you there." It was more a statement than a question.

"No, it was Sir Frederick. He made a door into my cupboard door." And with his finger he showed Severus how the pirate had drawn the door, that had lead Harry into the graveyard. "It was real spooky. I thought I would be in the hallway and then suddenly I was standing in the snow on the dark graveyard. I didn't think it was possible. Uncle Vernon says there is no magic and it's just freakish. And then suddenly I was at the graveyard. Spooky. Real spooky."

"Was Sir Frederick a ghost?" The fine line between the Potion Master's eyes got deeper, thinking. _'This didn't make sense. Why would a ghost be interested in Harry, the Boy Who Lived, to free him of the Dursley's? Unless this Sir Frederick had something to do with the Dark Lord…'_ "Do you know Sir Frederick's full name?"

The child nodded. "Yes. He introduced himself to me as Sir Frederick Van der Steig. And on his tomb stone it said Frederick Severin Van der Steig."

"Van der Steig -" Severus repeated thoughtfully_. 'Why does the name sound so familiar?'_

Harry looked at him trustfully. "He had a great ship, the Mary Grace. He saved the slaves that John Hawkins stole from Africa and brought them back. He was a hero. And I was so cold and he gave me a magic flower that made the cold go away. He had met Queen Elizabeth who gave it to him and he was born at Babarossa. I think that was 15 hundred something. He fought in a real battle. When he was sailing with Mr. Hawkins, he captured the Mary Grace, and he - "

Severus felt overrun by all this information, but somehow uneasy. Something in there was wrong. Badly wrong, but he couldn't picture what it was. Actually, right now he needed to get the child back to bed. He offered him of the last milk, which Harry gladly took, and sent the empty cup back into the kitchen and carried the now sleepy child back into his room. But when he wanted to place the child back into his bed, Harry clung to him, refusing to let go.

"Child, you need to sleep."

"No, don't leave me here."

"Fine, I'll stay with you until you're asleep."

"Don't go."

Severus realized the boy working himself up into a panic attack.

"All right," he sighed. "You can stay with me for tonight. But only for tonight," he growled at the child. The little one only clung tighter to him.

"My Professor," he whispered and Severus summoned the black kneazle out of Harry's bed to him. The child held on to Severus neck as for dear life, his head on the older man's shoulder, the kneazle tightly in his hand when Severus went into his own bedroom. Leaving the door ajar out of habit, he sat himself on the bed, Harry still holding on, and he felt like a mamma monkey.

"Little one, you're safe here, you can let go for a moment. I'm here with you, I won't leave you. Let me go for a moment."

And really, the small child did let go. He placed Harry on the bed, and laid himself down too, placing the covers around him and Harry. With a flick of his hand, he turned off the lights. It was not fully dark in his room. On the window across from his bed, the curtains were open and the moon in the dark winter night gave a little light. Next to him, the small figure of the boy crutched close to him again, folding himself into his arms. He felt the head on his chest, searching for warmth. Placing an arm around the small shoulders, pulling the little one close, he found himself smiling at the moon. Yes, mamma monkey sounded good.

- . -

Severus woke of the sound of crying.

Still drowsy, he tried to open his eyes. His hands were searching for the child, who was sitting in bed not far away from him.

"Harry, shush, come here," he said softly and grabbing the child, he pulled him close into his embrace again. He felt the small body tensing and shivering under his touch.

"Little One, what is wrong tonight?" He was whispering to the child.

"My uncle… was… was there. And he… he…" the little boy was crying on Severus chest. The older wizard could feel the wetness of tears soaking through his shirt and the despair that was spreading through the trembling fragile body.

'_Oh my, what a night. First the pirate, now the uncle. What's next?'_ He stuffed a pillow in his back to sit up a little, moving the child closer to him, holding him tightly, drawing little circles on Harry's back and whispering gentle nonsense into his ear.

After a long while the boy calmed down a little. "Tell me," Severus asked gently. "What happened? What did your uncle do?"

"He… he took off his belt. And he… I… he…"

Severus felt rage spreading through his body. Of course he knew why someone would take a belt off. He couldn't even remember how many times his father had used a belt on him.

"Harry," he needed to know. From everything that he had discovered by now, he knew that the child was abused. But he never knew for sure, the child never talked about it. "What did your uncle do?"

The child bowed his head so Severus couldn't see the little one's face.

"He gave me a beating…" the child whispered.

"Why would he do that?" Severus asked silently.

"I… He said I had stolen a flower."

"A flower? Why would you take a flower?" Severus was getting confused, until he remembered suddenly that this whole thing had been a dream from Harry. Of course it didn't make sense! It wasn't supposed to.

"I didn't steal it. Sir Frederick had given it to me. I was cold and he said it would keep me warm. That's why he gave it. He said it needed the warmth of the body and that's why I'm supposed to wear it on my skin in this pouch. And Uncle Vernon said I stole it. He gave me a beating, and… and my… my arm fell off and everywhere was blood, it was all red. He… he was laughing and threw… me in a hole. And then… he… he… threw dirt on me. And I wasn't… wasn't there… anymore." New tears were running over the small, pale face. Severus opened his arms again to pull the child close.

"It was a dream, sweetheart, just a dream. You're safe here, I'll protect you, I promise. Nothing will happen to you. I will be there. Your uncle can't harm you…"

Exhausted, the child curled up in his arms and fell back to sleep. Severus stayed awake a little longer, but too tired to sort his thoughts. He drifted off, too.

- . -

Only to wake up a half an hour later, wondering what had woken him. The child was quietly sleeping next to him and the sky he saw through the window was still dark. Relaxed, he analyzed his instinct, but he couldn't find anything awkward. Just when he closed his eyes again to fall back to sleep, he noticed a small, green glow of light on Harry's chest.

Surprised and expecting danger, he sat up and drew his wand, suddenly wide awake. Nothing happened, the child continued sleeping, not aware of Severus sudden movements. Silently, the older wizard checked the wards of the house, just touching upon them, searching for the cause of this light. But he could not feel any change. Everything seemed all right. No attack, no foreign spells.

The explanation of this light must come from Harry himself. Holding his wand to the child's chest he banished the pajama top.

There, on the exposed skin lay the amulet, the green stone softly glowing in the dark, giving a strange gloom. The potion master was taken aback. He had never before seen this kind of light off the emerald. He had heard stories about protective stones which were glowing in the face of danger to warn and protect the carrier. But he had never seen it. He had not worn this particular amulet after his mother had died. He just couldn't, because it reminded him so much of her. So he had packed it away, tightly, to forget about it. Thinking about it now, he realized that maybe it had not been a good idea. Maybe it would have saved him from turning to the Dark Lord and the marking. He shook his head to get out of his thoughts.

'_Too late now'_ he thought sarcastic. _'For me, anyway. But not for the little one.' _

He reversed the spell and the pyjama top was back on Harry. The child breathed in deeply and snuggled himself closer into the blankets.

Severus thoughts were racing. _'The stone is glowing, the protection working, but the child is sleeping. Where is the danger? Actually the danger then must be – within the child's dreams. But how can that be dangerous? He's sleeping…' _He just couldn't explain it. But it gave him a funny feeling. Somewhere, he missed something. But however he turned and placed it, he could not find the missing piece. Next to him, the child stiffed suddenly, and a soft moan escaped the small lips. Immediately, the professor tried to wake Harry.

"Child, wake up. You're dreaming. Come now, Harry, wake up."

The child opened his eyes slowly, only to look at Severus with glossy eyes.

"Harry, you're there?" The man was wondering why his voice was hoarse. Was he speaking like this?

He leaned over the small body, calling out softly in Harry's ear. "Child, are you there?"

"Severus?" He heard the child sleepily whisper.

"Wake up, little one, you're dreaming."

"Severus." He felt small, skinny arms around his neck and helped the child scoot nearer.

"What were you dreaming?" he asked in a low voice, watching the child closely.

"I lost my heart," the child whispered into his ear.

Severus could feel his heart drop. He tightened his arms around the small body, to ensure that the child would not disappear suddenly. "How could you lose your heart?" he asked and felt Harry's warm breathing on his skin.

"It got stolen."

"Who stole it?"

Severus tried to look into the child's face, but Harry refused to let go of Severus' neck. The thin arms held on tightly. The Professor got a glimpse at Harry's chest, though, and realised the glowing of the stone was gone.

With a sigh, the little boy answered. "Sir Frederick did."

"The pirate?"

"Yes. He called it, and it came to him, flying out of my body."

The potions master was wondering. What a strange night.

"Severus?"

"Yes, little one?"

"When I am a ghost, can I be with you, then, too?"

"Harry," Severus didn't know what to say. It was a dream, it was just a dream. The child wasn't crying, he was so serious, like nothing was happening. It gave the older wizard an uneasy feeling.

He still held the child tightly close, while the little boy drifted back to sleep.

- . -

In the early morning hours, the sky turned light slowly; the Professor got woken up by a coughing fit from Harry. He just couldn't stop. Sitting up, Severus pulled the child along in a sitting position. He touched the small forehead, but it was cold. Placing the blanket tighter around the child, he could only hold him. With terror, he saw the child coughing up blood.

"Harry, relax," he felt panic rise, but pushed it away. He needed to stay calm. For Harry. He summoned a cool, damp cloth out of the bathroom to wash the child's face. "Breath," he said in a low voice, and Harry's own panic was washed away. The child focused on his breathing and became calmer again.

"I have to use the loo," he whispered.

Severus nodded and moved out of bed, to pick up the child to take him to the loo.

"I can go by myself," the child whispered, but didn't mind the older wizard carrying him.

"Of course you can." The professor was smiling at him with anxious eyes.

In the light of the bathroom, the child's skin gave the impression of looking blue. Severus was shocked when he saw it, but he didn't want to worry the little boy. He said nothing and washed the cloth to hang it up to dry. He was going through his brain and searching why a child's skin would be blue.

'_Cold,'_ he thought. _'The child must be cold.'_

When Harry was done, Severus brought him back to his bed and tucked him in under the still warm blanket, adding a warming spell and laid the kneazle next to him.

A small hand was stilling his movements. "Aren't you staying with me?"

"I will be with you in a moment. I need to check something downstairs. I will be right back. Just sleep." He leaned over the child and with soft lips kissed the small forehead.

With a smile, Harry closed his eyes and dropped into an exhausting sleep.

For a moment, Severus rested a hand on the small cheek. Then he dressed himself while listening to Harry's uneven breathing went downstairs to research something to help Harry. Obviously, the child is coming down with a cold.

- . -

Two hours later, Severus fed Harry a Pepper Up Potion. He assumed the small one would break out with a fever soon. He himself had taken a nutrition potion so he would not get what Harry obviously had. He needed to stay healthy so he could take care of the little one.

He sat himself next to Harry on the bed, the child rested his head on his lap, not quite asleep. Softly, he caressed the unruly black hair and traced the jaw line with a finger.

Next to him, on the night table, lay a bunch of papers that Poppy had owled to him a half an hour ago. _Application for guardianship with later adoption_ said on the top. Poppy already had filled them out, he just needed to sign them and send them off to the Ministry. On the bottom was a question which he was thinking about now. "Would you apply for later adoption? Yes/No" and then it said that it would be automatically changed into adoption if nothing else was recorded otherwise about it within one year.

He was remembering yesterday, just before they were taking their nap.

'_You are the prince, Harry. And some day you will be king. And I am the knight who is guarding you, keeping you safe,'_ he had whispered in the true prince's ear. '_Can I do everything I want when I'm king?'_ he heard the little one say, as if it would be real. _'Yes, anything,'_ he had answered. _'Then I want to make you to be my daddy._' Yes, he remembered. And now it could be made real. _'And I will make you my son. '_

Yes, and now he could. He just needed to sign these papers, place a line under Yes and cross out the No and have Harry sign his name too, for the adoption.

- . -

A small noise let him look down. The little face was completely white, the green eyes huge but dull.

"Sweet heart, are you able to sign your name?" he asked gentle.

"Yes," the little one answered with trembling lips.

"Do you want to become my son?"

"Am I king?" the child was smiling at him.

"Yes, Harry. You are the king." He felt himself smile back, while his heart was breaking. The child, Lily's child, his child was ill. Whatever it was he came down with, it looked pretty bad.

The smile never left the child's face. "Yes," he said with a soft voice. "I want to be your son."

Severus handed him the quill and with black ink, Harry steadily wrote his name next to Severus'.

- . -

With a funny feeling, he watched the owl disappear over the forest towards the ministry.

He turned around to face Harry, who was lying in bed again with closed eyes. Sweat was showing on his forehead and a shiver went through the small body once in a while. Soon, the pajama top was soaked with cold sweat. Severus went into the small room next to his to get some fresh clothes for the child to wear. He also wanted to fire call Poppy. He took the soft clothed pants the child had on the day before, which were now lying on the chair. The jumper went in to the wash, and he pulled a new one out of the dresser. With the pants plus clean underwear and socks, he came back into his room. Harry was lying awake and was watching him come closer.

"Harry," Severus sat next to him on the bed. "You need to dress; I want Poppy to come and check you. You are ill."

Very slowly, Harry sat up and let Severus undress and dress him. Severus was reminded of a paper doll Lily had played with when they had been little. There had been at least 50 different pieces of colored paper clothes for the doll to wear. They had had so much fun undressing and dressing that doll. That had been one of the very rare moments Petunia had been with them, too, and there had been no fights.

When Harry was dressed, Severus picked him up to carry him downstairs.

"Wait," The child was whispering tiredly in the potion masters ears.

"What?"

"My Professor. You forgot the Professor."

With a warm glaze in his eyes and a smile, Severus summoned the kneazle to place it in Harry's arms.

The little boy returned the smile tiredly.

"Thank you," he whispered, holding on to the black kneazle tightly.

In the kitchen, the professor magically made some porridge. The whole time he was moving around, the child had laid his head on the older man's shoulder and his arms around him, too. Severus had just refused to sit the child down. He wanted the little one to be close.

Harry had been afraid that if he would get sick, he would be rejected. Nobody wanted to have an ill child. But now, he felt safe and protected. And sometime soon, this man would be his real daddy and no longer just a dad-man.

Severus sat them down in the sitting room chair. When he started to feed Harry, like a little child, Harry had to laugh and with trembling fingers he took the spoon to feed himself. Severus was watching him with eagle eyes.

After the second bite, Harry felt full. And after the third, Harry had the feeling as if he had to throw up.

'_Not again,'_ he was thinking, pressing the Professor in Severus arms, held his hand in front of his mouth and slid down off of the older wizards lap to run to the loo.

After he lost everything he just ate and some more, he sat himself on the toilet to pee.

Severus banished the food to the kitchen and made some weak tea. The child needed something in his stomach.

Then he went after Harry just to find the child panting and completely in panic, standing in front of the toilet. Severus rushed towards the child, stuffing the kneazle, he still was holding into his robe pocket and gathered the little boy in his arms closely.

"Child, Harry, what's wrong?"

The little boy started crying.

"It's blood. Everywhere is blood."

And when Severus looked into the toilet he saw the diarrhea and blood.

In his arms, the child was cramping and trying to breathe evenly.

Extremely worried, Severus flushed the toilet and took Harry in his arms to carry him to the floo.

Throwing in some floo powder, waiting for the flames to turn green, he called out for "Hogwarts, Hospital Wing", stepped into the fire and flooed away with Harry in his arms.

.

.

.

**To be ****Continued**


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N:**

**_First, _****_a_****_ BIG _****_THANK YOU_**_to my betas __BreannaTala__, __cara-tanaka__, __Zarathustra46,__ Miriam1__ and __Laurenke1__, who are doing a great job editing! *wave*_

_"_**_Thank you"_**_ to everyone who's left and is leaving a review! I also enjoy the ideas and guesses you come up with. Don't hesitate so let me know of my mistakes, like blue and green blankets… I appreciate it and Thank you for staying with me!_

_-.-.-.-.-_

_Please be aware of all warnings, and remember, I'm not J.K. Rowling, the Harry Potter world doesn't belong to me and the characters will be OC, of course. So are the surroundings. If you want Snape and Harry be typical "Rowling", you should NOT read this fic. _

_-.-.-.-.-_

_For those who were asking how many times I post: Right now I try to manage once a month, because of studying, work and school. Summers are always bad. It will be getting better again in October._

_-.-.-.-.-.-_

_I want to use this place to say "Thank you" to all who volunteered to jump in for beta reading! You guy's are amazing, there were so many volunteers, I had a real hard time to choose one or two… ;)_

_-.-.-.-.-.-_

_All right, now let's begin and remember __there are at least 10 more Chapters to go… Enjoy. Vin_

**_x.x.x.x.x.x_**

**x**

**.**

.

**Chapter 18**

.

.

.

When Severus stepped through the floo, Harry was breathing unevenly and he could feel his heartbeat quickening. Calling Poppy, the Professor went into the very back of the infirmary to lay the child down in one of the white-covered beds.

"Severus, what's the matter?" Poppy came rushing towards him, still in her nightgown; pulling her dressing gown on while running.

"It's Harry." Severus tried hard to quell his panic but it showed in his voice.

"What happened?" Poppy waved her wand over the small body.

"I don't know. He's getting ill." And with few words, he told her briefly about yesterday and then what happened during the night. "He went to the toilet this morning, lost everything he'd eaten and was bleeding while throwing up. He also coughed up blood." Next to Poppy, a floating a parchment and quill were recording everything he said.

She stopped moving her wand and looked at him. "Severus," she said seriously, "I can't really find anything. He's exhausted and his heartbeat isn't steady, but that could also be from a cold." She put her wand away, but didn't dismiss the parchment.

"But -"

"I understand you're worried. Leave him here and we will monitor him. I would suggest you go home and get him his pyjamas and whatever else he needs. I will stay and watch him until you return." With that, she closed a privacy curtain around the small child's bed and summoed a chair to her.

Severus let go of the child completely, tucking the blanket around him and whispering in his ear: "I will be right back; I will just get your night stuff and mine too. Here, your Professor will keep you company until I return." He pulled the Kneazle out of his pocket and laid it next to the now-sleeping child. With a nod to Poppy, he turned and hurried to floo home wanting to be back soon.

- . -

Feeling worried and exhausted, Severus first poured himself some fire whisky and sat in his armchair to think. He was feeling alert and didn't know why. He tried to relax a little. So much had happened in the last week. Not just that he found a child;, no, he had come to care deeply for the boy and wanted to keep him. He wanted to become a father. Not just that, he already had signed the papers and had sent them off. Soon, he would know if he was qualified.

He finished the golden liquid with one sip and stood up when his sight fell onto the book on the table next to his chair. The Flower of Life. With a sudden thought, he took the book along with his notebook and two of Harry's coloured pencils, shrank and pocketed them. Then, he went upstairs to pack the child's belongings.

In the bathroom, he got the toothbrush when he saw Lily's boat on the side of the bathtub. He remembered telling the child of the wreath that his boat had won and with a sudden thought, he went into his room to take a small box, folded from thick red paper, out of his drawer. When he opened the lid, two little, dried – and almost falling apart – flowered wreaths lay on a dark green velvet cloth.

Smiling but nostalgic, he closed the lid again to return downstairs to his desk. He took his coloured wooden treasure box out and placed the paper box carefully in it. Then he placed the treasures in Harry's bag, which he also shrunk to put it in his robe pocket.

Looking around, he saw the magical blocks still on the carpet. Since he was afraid Albus would find out the child had been staying with him for the week instead of him bringing the boy back to his relatives, he levitated the blocks upstairs into the child's room. So there, everything else was neatly cleaned up. Downstairs, anyway.

With a sudden impulse, he took the crystal dragon out of the drawer, went to the Floo, warded it behind himself and flooed back to the infirmary of Hogwarts where he went to Harry's bed immediately.

Everything was unchanged. The child was still sleeping, but very pale. His small lips looked almost blue.

Poppy rose when she saw him and moved to make room for him.

"Nothing happened?" He just wanted to make sure.

She shook her head into no and installed a silencing charm around the bed.

"Did you sign the papers?"

He gave her a thin smile. He normally didn't like to open up and smile, but to her it was different. She knew him since he had been eleven. "Yes, I did," he answered her softly. "So did Harry."

She smiled back at him in approval. "You're doing the adoption too? Good. You should get an answer soon. I filled out the abusive parts done by his relatives. The ministry won't be happy this had happened to a Wizarding child.

Especially to the Boy-Who-Lived." She grinned madly and he rolled his eyes.

"Albus will have my hide."

"Mine too." She giggled.

"You can always run away with us," he offered her.

"I might." She patted Severus on the arm.

"Where are we running away to?" A small shaky, rough voice asked.

"Harry!" Both grownups looked down at the small figure in bed right away.

"How are you feeling, sweetling?" Poppy waved her wand over the skinny child, the parchment popping up right away, too.

Severus went to the other side of the bed to be closest to his child. He summoned a chair to him and transfigured it's hard, comfortless surface into something softer to sit on. He leaned over and laid his hand on the small forehead to move away the fringe. "Little One, how are you feeling?"

Green eyes connected with black ones. Small hands laid themselves around the older wizard's neck. "I want to go home," the child whispered.

"Home?" Poppy looked a little confused. "As to Spinner's End?"

"Yes," Harry answered weakly, still in a whisper.

Severus moved to sit right next to the child on the side of the bed. "Soon,"

he said and felt warmth spreading through him. "Soon, darling."

When Poppy was done with her wand waving, she placed a glass of water on the child's lips. "Drink," she said and he swallowed a couple of small sips. But he couldn't take much and soon, he fell back to sleep, exhausted.

- . -

Shaking, Harry woke up a little later. His hands were searching for Severus and when he found him, he held on tightly.

"Nightmares," he whispered hoarsely.

Severus leaned forward and gently caressed the child's forehead. With the other hand, he took the cup with the water and offered it to the boy.

Thankful, Harry sipped some.

"Tell me a story, from where you were little, please." The little one was still whispering, but Severus could hear every word. _'Not again'_ he thought, slightly nerved, but dismissed the thought and the feeling right away. What was this little boy to do the whole day, except getting better? _'I don't really want to be reminded of this time -' _he suddenly remembered the coloured box with his treasures he took along. There were hundreds of stories in there.

He took the bag that was still shrunken in his pocket and enlarged it again.

With a wiry smile, he took the colourful box and sat it in front of the child on the bed. "First, you need to change into your pyjama and use the loo. When you're done with this, then we might find a new story for you." His tone did not allow backtalk. Harry accepted with a sigh.

When the child was tucked back into bed, the Professor moved the treasure box close to Harry

and with shaking hands, he opened it.

"These are stories of my childhood." For some reason, he felt vulnerable and afraid. What if the child would laugh at him?

But Harry looked at the things very carefully, smiling happily at the older wizard. Severus took the box with the wreaths in it. "The story for these you have already heard." He opened the paper lid to let Harry peek inside and the child gave him a warm smile. He placed the lid back on and put the little box back in the bigger one.

"All right, let's see," A wicked smile on his face, he took the jar with the dried frog and held it in front of Harry. The child coughed a little in surprise and looked slightly shocked at the Potions Master. "This frog was the start of my potion ingredients collection. Of course, you might think, but it is truly a very special frog."

The child looked from the frog in the jar to Severus serious face and back to the frog.

"You wanted a story, right?"

The little boy nodded. "Yeah," he whispered eager to hear another tale.

"All right, now listen. One time, when I was about twelve, Lily and I went to the little stream in the woods. She saw a frog and went behind it. It jumped around our feet -" He showed with his finger how and to where the frog jumped, tickling the little child here and there on the way. He waited until the small boy was giggling hoarsely until he continued on with the story. "- As if it wanted to play with us. At some point, Lily caught it somewhere along the line and kissed it.

She said it could be a magic frog. And when she kissed it, it might become a prince."

Excited, Harry was looking at him.

"But as it is with most frogs, the prince didn't come and the frog stayed a frog."

"But, it… couldn't change," The child had trouble speaking. His voice sounded as if it would give up soon.

"You really caught a cold," Severus shook his head. "You shouldn't speak too much."

"Sev… 'rus, you don't… under… understand -" the child continued in a hoarse whisper.

"What don't I understand, little one?"

"The prince… the frog couldn't… turn, the… the prince was… already there."

The older wizard grew silent. Now, he understood what the child wanted him to see.

Lily wanted a prince. His mother's name, it was Prince. The prince had been there, and they hadn't seen it! "Oh, Merlin," he laid his fingers over his mouth in silent astonishment and closed his eyes.

So much pain had followed. Pain that drove him, eventually, to the dark side.

"When no prince showed up -" Now Severus voice sounded hoarse, too. "She must have thought to look for someone who would act more like it. She wanted to marry a prince. That was her childhood dream." His voice grew silent. He opened his eyes again, but did not look at Harry. "Your father, James Potter -" he tried very hard not to spit out the name, "- was very spoilt and his family was very wealthy."

"… You think he… was… prince?"

"To her, he may have acted like one." He felt the sadness tie his heart close.

A mistake – a misunderstanding – just a playing of words. Maybe the episode in his fifth year would have never happened – if they just had known!

The Dad-man looked as if he would cry anytime. Harry opened his small arms to pull the older wizard, his Dad-man, closer into a tight hug.

"You are… my… prince," Harry whispered in Severus ear.

The Potions Master returned the tight embrace, gathering the child closer to him and whispering back: "And you are mine."

After a while, Harry's small fingers took the jar with the frog gently out of Severus' hand and laid it slowly back into the box. He closed the lid, moving the box a little to the side and snuggled up to his Dad-man for a nap.

- . -

For lunch, there was chicken soup and soft white bread. Because the child's hands were shaking, Severus fed the child a couple spoons of the soup and small pieces of the soft bread. But too soon Harry refused eating.

"Please, child, you must eat. Your body needs the strength."

But Harry shook his head slightly and still whispering he said: "I can't… eat more… Sorry."

The Professor sighed. He placed the bowl on the tray, away from the child. He offered some water, which the boy took hesitantly. Too soon, the little one turned his head away.

Severus sighed again, took the 'Dragons Eye' out of Harry's bag and began reading it to the child. Exhausted, the young boy fell into a very light sleep.

Severus kept reading. He knew that any noise would wake the little one up again. He knew his voice would calm the child, even when Harry had no idea what he was reading.

Suddenly, he felt the presence of another person. He didn't look up right away, because he expected Poppy to be there. He was quite surprised, when he saw the Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, sitting in the chair on the other side of Harry.

"So, this is the boy who survived," he said with a strange twinkle in his eyes.

Severus closed the book immediately and placed it on the side, being on guard.

"What happened?"

"We don't know." The Potion's Master looked at Harry. The boy was still asleep. The older wizard hoped that the child would stay asleep through Albus' visit. What would Albus do if he knew that Harry had been with him, Severus, the whole time? He'd better not think about it… "The child vomited and there was a lot of blood involved. That's why I brought him here."

Dumbledore looked at him. The twinkle in Albus eyes changed into an odd glitter. "I'm sure his relatives are worried about him. You should have let them take care of Harry, my boy. Make sure that he be on his way by tomorrow. We shouldn't take away the opportunity for Mrs. Dursley to cuddle and mommy him."

Severus had to bite his tongue.

Harry used that moment to open his eyes. When he saw the strange person sitting next to him, he winced back and let out a fearful gasp.

"Hello, Harry, how do you do? We heard you are ill." Albus sight fell on the black Kneazle in the child's arms. Smiling at the little boy, he petted it.

Severus had the sudden urge as to smack Albus fingers away from it. He didn't want the headmaster to caress his child or the Kneazle like a pet. But he controlled the feeling. It would look strange if he would do it; Very strange.

As if the child had read his thoughts, he started to retch. Albus looked up at Severus in surprise and then jumped up to call Poppy while Severus just conjured a bucket and held it in front of Harry's face.

Everything the child had eaten for lunch he vomited back out and even more.

When the older wizard thought the boy was done, blood came up. Not much, but some. It worried

Severus deeply, but he didn't say a word. Not with Albus there.

Poppy came and chased the Headmaster out of the private space around Harry.

"Albus, just go. Come back tomorrow, the child needs rest right now."

"Fine, Poppy. Severus, my boy? Come along for tea. I need to talk…"

"Albus," Severus started, but got rudely cut off by Poppy.

"Albus, I'm sure you know that Severus is the Potions Master here, right? He must stay. When there's a need for the Headmaster, I'll let you know. But right now there's not." With those words Poppy just shoveled a surprised Albus out of the space around Harry.

"Poppy, Harry must be brought back to his relatives soon. They can…"

Poppy interrupted him roughly. "Albus. You must be kidding. Did you see the shape he's in? Moving the child is out of question in this moment. You don't want him to die, do you?" She asked and wondered herself where she got her short temper from. But she did feel a little impatient right now.

She turned and closed both curtains tightly in front of Albus' nose and placed a silencing charm around.

The Potions Master stared at her in true disbelief.

"What?" She snapped at him only to give sigh and slowly sat down in the chair Albus had occupied five minutes ago.

Severus gave her a thankful smile.

Waving her wand over Harry, she gave him a smile back.

Shaking his head in disbelief, Albus left the hospital wing, only to run into Minerva on the other side of the door.

"Good afternoon, Albus."

"Minerva, what a nice surprise. Have you seen little Harry yet?"

- . -

Harry, in the meantime, couldn't believe what was happening. His whole body ached. While vomiting, he'd peed in the bed and he also had diarrhea again. He felt like a baby without diapers. Poppy cleaned him with her wand, but he saw the look she was giving to his Dad-man. He would

never want to keep him if he was going to act like a baby. He closed his eyes and felt panic and fear rise, but fought it down. He had his flower with him; he knew he had his pants on when he came here, even though he was wearing his pyjamas now. He remembered stuffing the pouch in his pants pocket last night, before the bath.

But he felt something on his chest. It couldn't be the pouch – how would it gotten there when he had stuffed it into his pants pocket? Very slowly he picked up his left arm and moved his pyjama top away, only to see a round sun shaped amulet around his neck. There was a green stone in the middle of it. He felt an odd sensation when the warmth spread through his body, which came from it.

"It's the amulet my mother gave me when I was six and went to school for the very first time. It is for your protection. Its magic will keep you safe," he heard the Dad-man say.

His arm fell away. It felt limp. When he wanted to pick it up again, he had the feeling as if it would weigh a ton. So, he just left it where it was.

Another sensation he felt, was when he tried to speak. He couldn't. He could make some noise, like moan, but he couldn't say a word. 'I must have a really bad cold,' he thought, and opened his eyes again.

- . -

The first thing he saw was the Dad-man. Inwardly smiling and glad to see him, he looked at him with wide open, green eyes.

_He saw himself hug__ging him and the Potion's Master was smiling at him. 'Dad,'_

_he whispered, 'I want to go home.'_

_'Yes,' he heard the Dad-man answer. 'We will be on our way soon.'_

_He closed his eyes and opened them again, to show the Potion's master he had understood. 'Soon.'_

- . -

Severus was surprised that, when he told the small child about his amulet, that there were no questions coming. But he looked closely when he heard a moan. The child was watching him. When he saw the eyes close and reopen slowly, he wondered if perhaps the little boy was tired and needed to sleep more.

He sat himself back to his chair and took his book out of his pocket and the notebook to do a little more research on the "Death's Return Potion." He also reread the story of Mr. Prince, if there was any hint what kind of flower the "Flower oOf Life" could have been.

Tea time was a silent affair for Harry. Poppy brought him some very weak tea with little sugar and no milk or crème. He was allowed to nibble on some pieces of dry toast, though. He still had trouble picking up his hand to hold the bread and even with that, he felt full very fast. He could read the Dad-man's worry in the features of his face and wondered if the worry was about him. He wished he could take it away and it made him very uncomfortable.

Aunt Petunia had never shown so much worry for him. She had never cared.

_'You didn't care about me,' he whispered in his mind to her. She sat at the kitchen table, reading a magazine, drinking tea and eating a piece of cake Harry had made earlier. Harry had never gotten a slice. Now, she was telling him what she wanted him to cook for dinner. He laid everything out he needed for cooking. He dropped the tomatoes on the counter and they rolled into the sink. He didn't mind, they needed to go in there anyway to get washed. But Aunt Petunia minded. She jumped up and grabbed her wooden cooking spoon. With that, she beat him on his back until he was crying. And he did cry. 'Please Aunt Petunia, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, it won't happen again. I promise.'_

_She was evilly laughing at him. 'You selfish brat. You're a good for nothing freak!' She smacked him on the shoulder and the back of his head. He could feel a headache rise._

_'Nobody ever wanted you. Why in the world did it have to be us?'_

_'My dad, my D__ad-man, he wants me.'_

_'You little freak! You aren't important enough to be kept. He will be happy to get rid of you.'_

_'No, Aunt Petunia, you're wrong, he wants me. He loves me-'_

_'Love? Nobody will ever love you. You're just not lovable. Look at my Dudley, he's a charming one. But you? What's there to love? Because of you Lily had to die.' The last part came as a hiss. _

_'No, no -'_ Tears were running down Harry's cheeks_. 'He_ _will take me. My Dad-man will love me…'_

_Aunt Petunia was laughing shriekingly._

"Little One?" Within Aunt Petunia's screaming, he heard a deep velvety calm voice, whispering in his head.

_'You're not worth the trouble, freak.'_

"Darling?" Were warm lips touching his ears?

_'You're nothing.'_

"Sweetheart?" Was there a soothing hand caressing his cheeks?

_'Freak!'_

_'Daddy?'_

He felt black exhaustion wash over him and take him away.

- . -

In the late afternoon, the Potions Master's colleagues stumbled in. One after the other, they wanted to see The Boy Who Lived.

_'Thank Merlin Poppy is here,'_ the Potion's Master thought, relieved and looked for Albus. But the Headmaster wasn't there.

Harry was awake and looked with big eyes at the teachers, flinching away into the pillows when the professors were standing at the foot of his huge looking bed and blocking the way out. So many strangers and they all stared at him if he would be a rare animal in the zoo. He didn't want them to be here.

_'Help.'_

But he only heard Aunt Petunia shrieky laugh in his head.

"Don't touch him," Severus barked when Aurora, the Astronomy Professor, wanted to pet the small pale hands. Surprised, she yanked her hand back, only to look at him huffed.

"Why? Does he belong to you?"

_'Yes.'_ Severus growled inwardly. "We don't know what's the matter with him, yet. Perhaps, he's contagious?"

The other teachers nodded and Professor Sinistra blushed. Of course, she hadn't thought about that. They moved backwards a step, only to go forwards again when Professor Sprout leaned over and said silently: "Let me know when you're brewing. I'll get you anything you'll need."

Poppy smiled at her. "Thank you, Pomona. I hope Harry will jump around again soon."

Severus didn't say anything. He was watching the child, ready to strike when the next panic attack would come up.

"We should go again," Minerva said and tried to shoo the teachers back out of the infirmary. "Harry needs his rest."

Sybil squeaked and moved out of Minerva's way when she tried to get her to move her towards the front doors.

Filius, the Charms Professor, turned to Severus and said silently, so no one could hear him: "When you need anything, I'm here."

Surprised the potions master looked up and the other in the face. They never had been close. So far the colleagues usually avoided him; he was a mean Death Eater, wasn't he? "What makes you believe that I would need anything?"

Filius laid his hand on Severus arm. "Just so you know, Severus. Anything."

And before the other wizard could say or do something, the Charms Professor had turned and left the hospital wing.

"Please," Minerva tried to move the others with tight lips, pressed into a line.

"He looks just like James," Madame Hooch was standing on the end of Harry's bed when Minerva reached out to her. "Just think of him on a broom. He could be a great keeper, don't you think? Or he could be…"

"But he has Lily's eyes," Professor Bathsheda Babbling interrupted.

"Remember James wore glasses, too? He looked so handsome," the Professor for Muggle studies, Charity Burbage, threw in and was blushing slightly.

The Potions Master closed his eyes for a moment in disbelief. Did they have to disturb the child with their nonsense talking? Would they have to listen to all this crap?

Irma Pince, the Librarian, nodded to Charity's comment. "Yes, do you remember how he had his hair? It was so neat… And his eyes looked so serious, he cared so much about…"

Severus had to suppress a cough or any noise at all. _'Handsome? Caring? Who, James?'_

"He would have had a great future," Aurora wasn't looking at the child anymore. Now she was talking to Charity and Irma.

The Professors Septima Vector and Cuthbert Binns had said nothing at all so far. Neither did Rueubeus Hagrid. They were standing in the second row, and had just have had a look at the child.

"Aurora, please." Minerva tried to pull her away and move her out of the room.

Poppy stood next to Minerva to make sure no one would come too close.

_'I look like my dad? And why would I want to be on a broom?' _Harry felt like snickering, and in his mind he could see himself riding a broom in Aunt Petunia's house all right. He would get punished. Is that why he was here, in bed, because he rode a broom in Aunt Petunia's kitchen?

But wasn't it his Dad, that was sitting next to him on the chair? _'I thought his name is Severus? Why would that woman call him James?'_ He felt strangely confused.

_'Your dad is dead.' He heard Dudley say._

_'But my dad is here, right next to me, don't you see him?'_

_'Nice dad.' Dudley was grinning. 'And where was he a year ago? Or seven years ago, when you killed your mom?'_

_'I didn't kill her.'_

A woman who looked like Aunt Petunia was standing in front of him.

_'My Darling,' she said smiling._

A huge man with a beard was snivelling in a huge red and white handkerchief that looked more like a small tablecloth. "Poor Harry," he wailed. "Poor Harry."

Poppy felt her patience disappear. Her colleagues did not listen to her. They were still chatting along, speaking nonsense. She felt Minerva's eyesight on her and got nervous. Sure, the child already felt bad enough. And as much as she liked them, right now they were lusting for sensation. And that she didn't like. Neither did Minerva.

"Out!" Poppy yelled finally.

"Enough!" Minerva almost stomped down with her foot.

At the same time Severus had stood up, hovering like a black shadow in front of the professors. "Leave!" he hissed.

And strangely, the professors moved backwards and left through the door, silently.

"He will die," they all heard Sybil say in a shrill voice on her way out. "I don't know from what, but he will die."

"Now." Severus voice was low, real low, but it carried far. He talked to his colleagues like he would in his class. The Professors disappeared.

"I'm sorry for that," Minerva said annoyed and let herself fall on the other chair next to Harry's bed, ungracefully. "How is he doing?"

Poppy sat on the foot end of Harry's bed. "Fine," she said. "He's fine."

Minerva looked at her surprised and Poppy shook her head silently. She pointed to the office and Minerva understood. Of course Poppy wouldn't say anything in front of the ill child.

- . -

"I don't know what the matter could be. A few days ago, when I saw him the first time, he had minor problems, like a bruise, some broken and wrong healed bones, burns and a splinter in his eye. And now he can't keep anything down, has nightmares, cries without reason, his breathing isn't steady and neither is his heartbeat. He's peeing in the sheets. I had to put a nappy on him – I have no idea what it could be. Now, he doesn't even speak anymore. Tell me, Minerva, what can I do?"

They were sitting across from each other, by the fireplace in Poppy's office, a teapot in between them and two cups.

"Well, Poppy, I don't know." The Transfiguration Professor looked at her friend in gentle concern.

"You saw the child a few days ago? How? Did you find him?"

Poppy saw her mistake. But it was too late now, and Minerva was her friend – maybe she had a clue to what was happening, and her help was wanted and also needed. So the Medi-witch told her of everything that happened since Severus had found the child in the graveyard.

"Albus is against help for the child?" Minerva asked in disbelieve.

Poppy nodded. "He wants Severus return the boy by tomorrow. But whichever virus Harry picked up, probably from the graveyard, it's getting worse. Tomorrow, the child will be in St Mungos if we can't find what's wrong."

"Oh, Poppy," Minerva hugged her friend close. Sybil's face came into her mind and what she'd said. With force she pushed the thought away, but what if… No, right now her strength was needed, not her worry. "Poppy, what can I do to help?"

"Get Albus off of our back." Severus was standing in the doorframe, looking at the two women. "I will not now or ever return the child to his relatives. They abused and neglected him." Pulling up his blank mask on his face, he shifted. Leaning with his shoulder on the frame, crossed his arms over his chest he gave a threatening impression. Before he said too much; he rather not says anything at all.

Minerva looked at him in horror. "Poppy," she whispered "that isn't true, is it?"

Severus was sneering at her.

Poppy laid a hand on Minerva's. "Yes, it is true."

"I told him. I told him the child isn't safe there. He didn't listen, he just didn't listen! I knew they were abusive, I knew…" The Transfiguration Professor couldn't hold it. She buried her face in her hands, sobbing silently. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…"

"Poppy, I need to go to my chambers. I want to read up on something. The child is sleeping right now. Will you keep an eye out for him? I will be back shortly."

Smiling, Poppy looked into the closed up face of the Potions Master. "Of course I will," she said. "Just go ahead. If he wakes, I will let you know."

Nodding, Severus left while Poppy and Minerva were once again left alone.

Poppy sat down at her desk checking on some parchment, while Minerva returned to Harry's bed.

Minerva felt worried when she recognized the pale little form in the bed in front of her, which looked almost like the sheets themselves, all white. Under his eyes were blue sacks, showing his exhaustion. She sat herself on one side of the child's bed, gently caressing his unruly black hair and thinking. _'What if I just keep him? He could stay here at Hogwarts and we could just get a nurse for him. He could have a seat at the head table and he'd be happy here until he is eleven and be sorted into Gryffindor. I could keep an eye out for him and keep him safe. I would be his grandmother… Yes, Lily would like that. Oh, he looks so much like her. And James…'_

She completely forgot that the Potions Professor had saved the child and had taken care of him so far.

_'I will ask Poppy for guardianship papers. I'm sure she'll help me…' _

When Poppy checked on the boy some time later, she didn't see Minerva anywhere, but she noticed the black Kneazle on Harry's side and a silver grey tabby laying by the child's feet to keep him warm.

"Professor?" she heard the child whisper in a harshly tone. And she came closer to make sure the child knew the Kneazle was there. From the end of the bed, she heard Minerva purr in comfort.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N:**

**This Story is dedicated to my grandfather, Ricardo Wiesenberg, who passed away October 9****th**** 2011. May he find peace wherever he went.**

**.-.-.-..-.-.-.-.**

**_Also, _****_a_****_ BIG _****_THANK YOU_**___to my betas __BreannaTala__, __cara-tanaka__, __Zarathustra46,__ and __Laurenke1__, who are doing a great job editing! *wave*_

_"_**_Thank you"_**_ to everyone who's left and is leaving a review! I also enjoy the ideas and guesses you come up with. Don't hesitate so let me know of my mistakes, like blue and green blankets… _;)_ I appreciate and try to change it. Thank you for staying with me!_

_-.-.-.-.-_

_Please be aware of __**ALL WARNINGS**__, and remember, I'm not J.K. Rowling, the Harry Potter world doesn't belong to me and the characters will be OC, of course. So are the surroundings. If you want Snape and Harry be typical "Rowling", you should NOT read this fic. _

_-.-.-.-.-_

_All right, now let's begin and remember __there are at least 10 more Chapters to go… Enjoy. Vin_

**_x.x.x.x.x.x_**

**x**

.

.

**Chapter 19**

.

.

"Severus, I will retire for the night. You can stay; just lie down in the bed next to Harry, or stay in the chair, what ever you prefer. If there's any change, just call. I'll hear you."

The older wizard nodded a "Thank you," and sat himself in the chair next to his child's bed. Harry's eyes followed every move, but the child stayed silent.

"Good night, Severus, Harry." Giving them a warm smile, she cast a quiet "_lumos_" on the bed light on Harry's night table and turned off the bright hospital ceiling lights in the big room.

"Good night, Poppy." Severus answered and turned to the child after the Medi-witch had left through a light brown side door next to her office.

Tuning back towards the child he asked: "Harry, do you want anything?" But the boy did not open his mouth or gave any sign of understanding. He showed no motions at all. Carefully, Severus slipped the crystal dragon in the child's small hands and held them, with the dragon inside, close to him, leaning over. He felt the warmth coming back from the little boy's hands.

'_What is wrong? Why can't Poppy find anything? Why doesn't he speak anymore? There must be a reason for this!'_

It drove him up the wall. And he didn't understand at all. He needed to talk to Harry, needed to ask him what happened. Wanted to hear the child's voice. If he just could look into the boy's mind – it hit him. Of course, he could! He was an experienced legilimens! How come he didn't realize it earlier? This situation must be taking more of his attention than he thought.

He leaned over to look into Harry's face and moved one hand to gently card through the boy's unruly hair. "Little One, I'm going to come to you. I need you to look into my eyes. Don't be afraid. Please, trust me." He looked at the pale child in front of him. The eye lashes slowly came down once and opened slow again. The emerald eyes looked like polished stones to him. It was as if the child had given him a sign. Leaning more forward, he slowly raised his wand and placed it right on Harry's temple.

"_Legilimens_," he whispered softly and locked himself into green eyes.

- . -

It was as if he stepped through the floo into the sitting room of Spinner's End. There were his bookshelves all around the walls, the small hallway that was leading to the front door and outside into the snowy garden. There was the archway to the tiny dining room area and the kitchen and also the narrow white door to the loo, all on his right side. Straight ahead of him was the stairway. Out of curiosity he went up the stairs. But it also was just like at home. There was his room on the right and Harry's little one straight ahead and the little bathroom. There also was the door to the attic.

He went into Harry's room. The walls were in a light yellow tone and the ceiling was charmed into a summer blue sky with white small clouds crossing once in a while. There was the bed, a cupboard, a dresser, the desk, chair, night table, everything was there. By the window sill, there was a small branch growing out of the wall into the room. It had purple black berries hanging from little red purple stems. A purple bird was sitting on a branch, singing a melancholic tune. The Elderberry and the Purple Martin.

When he turned around, he saw the crystal dragon sitting on the night table. It opened its wings, to fly up to the charmed ceiling, where it landed on a fluffy cloud just to open its mouth and spit fire at him.

He moved over a little. He didn't need burning marks in his clothes. Suddenly, he felt something warm around his legs. Slightly worried, he looked down but to his relief, it was a black Kneazle that was purring around him.

"Professor?" he asked and the black fur jumped on Harry's bed to roll itself together in the soft pillows and to go to sleep, purring. Feeling warm inside and smiling to himself, Severus turned to go back into the sitting room, where he placed himself at his favourite chair. Next to the fireplace, where a warming fire was lit, a small child with black unruly hair sat on a fluffy white carpet, playing with magical building blocks.

"Harry!" He was so happy to see the child. His child.

Green, sparkling eyes focused on him. And a moment later the child was in his lap, hugging him tightly, as to never let him go again.

"Daddy!" He heard the Little One whisper in his ear and he held the boy close to him, hugging him tightly. "Daddy, I want to go home and be with you."

"Son, I want us to be home, too. But I need you to tell me what happened."

"I don't know."

"Since when have you not feel well?"

"Uh, I think after Madame Poppy did the surgery."

"The surgery was necessary for your eye."

"Yes, I know."

"Darling, I don't know how to help you."

"Daddy," the small arms tightened around Severus' neck.

"Yes?" Somehow the older wizard didn't mind to be called Daddy. He felt as if it was right and through it, he felt whole.

"I won't come back home with you." The child said with a serious voice. He really meant it.

"Son, what are you saying? Why won't you come back home with me? Of course you -" Severus tried to grab the child on the shoulders to see into his face, but Harry didn't let go of his tight grip.

"Daddy, I will go and see my Mummy and my other Daddy, my Papa."

"Harry, child, no…" No, no, this can't happen, this is – _there's something wrong_ – he tightened his arms around the little boy, as if to show him that he was not willing to let him leave.

"Daddy,"

"Harry, no. You're my angel. Without you, I'm nothing. How do you know? We will - "

"Daddy, Sir Frederick told me."

"Sir Frederick?"

"Yes. He's going to get me."

"But… but Sir Frederick was a dream…"

"No, Daddy, he is real. And I will have to go with him."

"No. I won't let you go. You are my prince. My future king. You can't leave me." Severus felt despair wash over him. He laid one hand over the back of Harry's head to hold him even closer.

"Daddy, listen to me." Harry pushed away a little and laid his hands on Severus' cheeks, to look into his eyes. "There is the rose."

"What rose?"

The little prince caressed his face softly with his fingers and also his eyes. "Look," he said and the room changed. He was still sitting in his chair and the child was still on his lap.

He saw Harry stepping through a door, '_the cupboard door,'_ he realized and they weren't in the hallway of the Dursley house like he expected; instead they were on a little square spot of field. He could see the stiff and icy grass cracking under the child's feet and the holey thin shoes he wore.

It was like watching a play in a theatre or a movie.

It was dark and cold. He felt Harry's despair as if it would be his own. He realised that the child wanted to go back through the door, but when the boy turned around, they only saw the dark shades of stones in rows before and behind them. Even next to them, on both sides. Cold and black and huge stones, as far the eye could see. The door was gone, too.

He saw Harry spin around several times but nothing changed. He suddenly felt what Harry had felt. So lonely and cold. Where was the door? He started to feel the little boy's panicky despair now even deeper.

But wait – there were little lights – red lights shining through the dark night. They looked like fairy lights. He saw the boy looking up but they could not see any stars nor the moon. Not far from them was a little church stretching its tall steeple into the cloudy night sky. It was silent.

There were naked trees and bushes once in a while, growing around them, with the occasional big cross made of stone. The ground was white from ice; it looked like a blanket lay over the stones, showing no footprints or other signs of life around. Now Harry knew where he was. A graveyard. Sir Frederick had taken him home. _'Will I find my Mom and Dad here?' _Severus could hear the thought as if the child had said them out loud. Absently, he gently caressed Harry's cheek with his thumb.

"Boo!" Severus jumped, as did both Harry's. The child in front of him, in the grave yard, jerked his head around and right next to the boy's left ear was Sir Frederick, silently laughing. "Did I scare you?" he asked.

"Nah," Harry replied and grinned, relieved.

"Yes," the Harry on Severus' lap whispered.

"You're scared?" Sir Frederick looked at Harry closely.

"Maybe just a little."

"Why?" Sir Frederick shook his head and whispered in Harry's ear: "Are you afraid of running into a ghost?" He started laughing loudly. It sounded like thousands were laughing; the whole graveyard echoed back. It didn't scare Harry but it didn't make him feel safe either.

It made Severus feel uneasy and the tiny hairs in his neck stand up. He softly pressed the child's head on his lap onto his shoulder. He looked more closely to the shimmering figure. Somehow he looked familiar, like if he'd seen this ghost before. He wore tight trousers, boots, a dark, thick jacket with a vest and a dark shirt underneath. On his head sat on curly long, dark hair a three pointed hat. It was impossible to see the colours of his clothes, but the whole figure was glimmering and shining. On his left side was hanging a sword on a belt and in the back, he carried a knife in his pants.

Obviously, this ghost must have been dead for a while already since his clothes were definitely out of style these days.

"No, of course not," he heard Harry reply and felt the child's discomfort. To play over his uneasiness, the boy asked Sir Frederick about his gravestone. "Good idea, to ask that question," he whispered into the ear of the Harry on his lap. The small boy gave him a sheepish grin.

"Over there." Sir Frederick pointed in the direction of a stone on the left, about two rows back, with a good view of the back side of the chapel. The whole chapel was framed by a circle of evergreen trees. _'Nice place to be, but how did he come here? This is the countryside, there's no ocean anywhere around. Odd.'_

"Come on, step over." Sir Frederick made an inviting hand movement towards his gravestone. Severus noticed that the finger tips on that hand seemed to disappear into air while he showed in the direction of his tombstone. Obviously, the ghost saw it too because he pulled his hand back quickly. Over the shoulder, he gave a checking glance at the child but it didn't look like the kid had seen anything strange.

Harry followed him over there.

"Have a seat." The Ghost urged. Sir Frederick placed himself on top of the gravestone, swinging his feet back and forth. The back of his feet melted into the stone whenever they hitthe surface. It looked very funny, and Harry snickered silently to himself.

The Harry on Severus lap giggled and even Severus had to suppress a smile.

While the other Harry's sight was glued to the phenomenon of disappearing and reappearing feet, he sat himself down on a dry and non-icy spot of dirt, half underneath a small bush.

"How long have you been here?" he asked, still watching Sir Frederick.

'_Good question,'_ Severus thought. _'That's what I've been wondering too.'_

The ghost pointed to the front of the black stone. In white and gold letters, Harry read:

**Sir Frederick Severin van der Steig**

Born January 1537 in York - Died 1596 on Sea in Battle

*Pirate*

Underneath was a painted picture of a skull. It looked very ghostly, and Harry shivered a little. To him, the design looked scary.

"You see," Sir Frederick, he said proudly, swinging his sword again, "I was Captain of a big pirate ship, the _Mary Grace_."

"And you fought in a battle?"

"In many."

'_Show off,'_ Severus felt slightly disgusted.

The ghost was quiet for awhile, thinking. "The greatest was the battle of _"Lepento"_ in 1571. I was in the crew from Don John. He was the half brother of Phillip II, King of Spain. Don and I – we were very good friends. Don died seven years later, while I …" he broke off and Harry saw the sad face and instinctively sought to change the subject. He wasn't too bad in history, but not great either.

"You said you were a pirate. Did you know Barbarossa, too?" Sir Frederick looked at him a little strange.

"I was born in the crew of Barbarossa," he said. "Kheir-Ed-Din; that is his real name. When I was six, I had to work on the ship to feed myself. He died when I was nine. I stayed with his old crew and a new Captain until I was 13, then I started to work for others. I sailed with many great captains."

"How did you become a pirate?" Harry really wanted to know.

Severus nodded in agreement. Yes, this answer should be interesting.

"Well, Harry, when I was 25 years old, I met a man named John Hawkins. He was a business man, with a great business in mind. He got himself a ship and a crew to sail to Africa. He stole and bought people there, young and strong men and women – also children…."

Severus' hand grabbed the child on his lap tightly. "John Hawkins, the book…!" The child looked at him in question. But he forced himself to stay calm and listen.

"…he took them to Spain and sold them as slaves for lots of gold. I went along to work for him. The trip was horrible for the slaves. Many died of hunger and thirst, and abuse. You must know, Harry, Mr Hawkins was not a nice guy. He was very avaricious. He got gold, lots of it—"

"Didn't you feel sorry for all those people?" Harry asked, dismayed.

"Wait and listen! When I was 31 years old, I went with him again. He had three ships, full with slaves. I and a very trustful friend of mine were the captains on two of his ships and during an Atlantic storm, we captured both those ships for ourselves. I took the _Mary Grace_ and my friend …"

Severus started to listen only with a half an ear. He noticed that there were parts always disappearing from the ghost as if he was suddenly invisible. Was the ghost fading? And how could this happen? He also recognised that this Sir Frederick did look familiar but once in a while there was something sly in his look. The spy in Severus told him of hidden danger in the dark. Something in the movements of the ghost just didn't fit. And then this guy stole a ship but not any ship. He stole a war ship. And not just one, they took two. After he stole people. Why didn't they go to the actual location and collected their money for the work they've done? Why did they take the ships instead? What was their reason, their goal? Well, Mr Prince wrote a whole book about it, how they stole whole towns, took rum and sugar, that the slaves on board couldn't move an inch and many, many had died. But wait, didn't this ghost just say that the ships were full with slaves when they had captured them? What if he had stolen the ships and sold the slaves on their own somewhere -

"What happened to the slaves? Did you sell them?" Harry was very curious.

'_Yes, Harry, good thought. Excellent timing.'_ Gently he caressed through the child's hair on his lap and listened what the ghost had to say about that.

Sir Frederick was silent for a while, like he relived memories of distant times. He still smiled, as if he hadn't heard Harry.

Severus tried to control himself badly. He just knew exactly what they did with the African people.

"We brought them back…"

"Liar!" Severus could hardly control himself now. The child on his lap looked at him in sorrow. He didn't know for sure, but he guessed. And it was a good guess.

Harry snuggled himself close into the older wizard's arms.

"…Some stayed in the crew, though."

'_Yes, because they were forced…_' The Professor didn't finish the thought. He had the urgent feeling that it was important now to listen. He was watching the ghost closely, looking at the thin mouth of the shimmering figure and the beard which oddly appeared to change colours, from light to dark and dark to light.

Sir Frederick kept speaking. "After we came back to England, I met Don John and I went with him to battle. We stayed together until he died of typhoid. I was lucky, I guess. He had a wonderful fiancée, Queen Mary of Scots. He was a wonderful friend and a very charismatic leader. Everybody liked him and it was great to serve him. He would have liked you too."

'_Yeah, I bet he would have…'_ Severus thought growling to himself.

"You… You really think so?" Harry was starting to get fidgety from excitement. '_Someone would like me?' _He pulled his knees up to his chest and laid his arms around them. He smiled_ 'Someone would like me!'_

'_Oh my child, I love you._' Severus felt his heart tighten, as he heard the child's thoughts. He hoped it be not too late for Harry and him together.

"Yes I do. You are very sweet, Harry. And you don't judge..." Sir Frederick trailed off, noticing Harry starting to shiver.

'_That blasted ghost! If he wouldn't be dead already, I'd kill him!_' Severus' hands held tightly to the arm rests of the chair and the child on his lap. He tried to be calm; this is a memory after all.

"Th… Thank y…you, Ss… Sirr Fr..eder..ick." Harry was listening so excitedly to the Story, which was better than any story he'd ever heard, he then realized that his hands and feet were almost frozen. He tried to warm his hands between his legs and to pull the feet closer to his body. He felt his nose and cheeks being cold too.

"You're cold!" It was more a statement then a question. Harry nodded too cold to speak.

"Wait, I have an idea – let's see if it works…" Sir Frederick got up from his stone and kneeled in front of Harry. "Give me your left hand."

Severus leaned forward. He had known that something would happen. What does the ghost need his little boy's hand? _'Get your filthy fingers off my child…'_

Harry held out the requested hand, palm up, out to the ghost. Sir Frederick laid his left hand on top of it, but without touching. He first moved his hand in circles. If it would have been a human hand, Harry would have felt the heat of the other hand. Now he only felt a light itching from the silvery glitter which fell from Sir Frederick's hand down to Harry's. Then Sir Frederick's hand moved up higher almost in the same height of the boy's head. While he did this, he was mumbling something.

Severus followed the whole thing in pure concentration. What was happening? This was getting interesting now.

Suddenly, Harry felt something in his hand. Severus felt it, too. The child on his lap was smiling.

It felt like a warm tickle to the Harry in the memory. Sir Frederick seemed done and moved his hand away. On Harry's palm lay the shade of a flower, surrounded by silver light.

Severus couldn't believe his eyes. It was a ghostly flower without a surface yet.

Sir Frederick laid one finger on the flower and was whispering something, as if speaking to the flower. Harry did not understand him.

Neither did Severus.

The flower grew solid, still shimmering. It was an ordinary flower bud, dark red like blood with silver lining on the top of the flower's leaves. Harry stared at this beautiful flower in his hand. "This," Sir Frederick said, "is the heart of the _Mary Grace_. If you get cold, just peel a leaf off and eat it. You won't be cold any longer." Harry very carefully peeled one leaf off. The inside of the leaf was mysteriously glittering. Like a silvery secret light.

"The Flower Of Life!" Severus whispered, completely astonished and leaned forward in total excitement.

"Do you know about it?" The child on his lap looked into his profile.

"Yes, I have read about it." The older wizard tightened his grip around the little boy.

"Thank you," the Harry in the memory whispered and laid the leaf on his tongue. It tasted sweet.

"You're welcome." Sir Frederick was smiling a warm smile at Harry.

To Severus, it looked fake, as if a fisher finally caught _the _fish!

"When you put it away, use this to hold it." With his finger, he touched Harry's throat and immediately, Harry felt something around his neck. It was a small dark-brown leather pouch. "Always carry it at the height of your heart. Closest to life." Harry very careful placed the flower bud in the pouch and let it rest directly on his skin, where his heart was.

Severus could remember that there had not been a pouch when he placed the amulet over the child's head. Thoughtful, he looked at the child on his lap, who had turned his face to rest on Severus' collar bone.

The Harry in the memory smiled warmly at Sir Frederick.

"Where did you get it from?" Sir Frederick's smile broke into a wide grin. He let himself fall on his butt and was sitting now right across from Harry. He no longer showed this light arrogant attitude.

"Queen Elizabeth gave it to me, "he answered Harry's question.

"This guy is a pure liar! He stole that damn thing!" _'This bloody pirate should be happy that he's dead already! If he'd ever cross my way, oh, Merlin, help me!' _The Harry on his lap smiled at him and laid his hand on Severus' arm. The older wizard calmed down a little, enough to follow along.

"You met her, too?" Harry's eyes must have been as big as saucers. _'Wow,' _he thought. '_I wish I could have been there to see it myself.'_

"Yes, right before my last battle." Sir Frederick was looking at Harry as if he knew what the boy was thinking.

"When was that?" Harry wanted another story. No one ever told him a good one before, and this was more than good, this was a life story. Something real happened. In his fantasy, he saw Queen Elizabeth giving Sir Frederick the pouch with the rose in it. Everything Sir Frederick was telling about, Harry saw it. As if he had been taken into a different world.

'_Yeah, when was that? Another fairy tale, please…' _Severus leaned back again, halfway relaxing. But he refused to let his thoughts carry him away again. He needed to focus on the Frederick guy and on Harry. And, of course, on the child's thought's and feelings.

"Hmm . . . well, that would be when I was in my 40's. I had tried to free the slaves from Spain to bring back to Africa. My crew, the Mary Grace, and me – we went on the Atlantic do just that. When I was 59 years old, though, I ran into a battle; I did not want to fight. It was June of 1596, a wonderful month. Unfortunately, I got stuck in the middle of the battle _"Raid on Cadiz"_ and my ship, my crew, and I lost our lives."

"I'm so sorry." Harry's emerald eyes looked so understanding and sad.

If Sir Frederick could have, he would have hugged Harry. They sat across from each other, looking at the other in understandable silence.

'_Serves him right, the bloody liar!'_ Severus was mad, but didn't show any emotions.

The ghost and the Harry in the memory were stitting silently for awhile, as if in deep thoughts.

Going through Harry's dreams and reflections, the potions master used the time to calm down more. At least he knew that story now.

The bell on the little chapel steeple rang four times, waking all of them out of their trances.

"I have to leave." Sir Frederick's hand moved to the side of Harry's face, framing it as if he were to touch him. Harry felt the warm tickling on his cheeks again – actually, he felt this gesture more in his heart than on his face. It was a new feeling, one he wanted to get used to. Warmth spread through his heart and he knew he would always search for this touch.

'_I'll give it to you, it's yours, take it. Anytime, love,'_ Severus thought and held the child on his lap closer. The little boy looked up at him smiling, his eyes sparkling like stars, full with trust.

"I promise," he heard Sir Frederick whispering, "I promise you, you'll find what you're searching for. I'll promise. I've given my life to you. You're safe, my darling, sweet child."

Some kind of alarm system in Severus spy-side went off with these words. He felt highly tense. Something is just going to happen…

"Sir Frederick, is there any way to free you from being a ghost?" Sir Frederick was smiling, a silvery shimmering around him. He touched Harry's forehead with his lips, as to kiss him.

'_NO!'_ Severus didn't want this… this ghost kiss his child. His son!

Harry felt the soft, warm tickling and closed his eyes. "You just did." And with that, Sir Frederick vanished out of Harry's sight.

The older wizard felt his heart clench. Something bad just happened. He knew it, he just couldn't picture it.

From all his research, he knew that through this flower it was possible to either take or give life or death. It would be depending if it would be used in a potion or not and when, yes, in which one. That was the reason why the plant was called "The Flower Of Life". But still something was missing.

In his mind, he went through the last part again.

"Son?" he looked at the child in his arms.

Harry had his eyes closed and was listening to his heartbeat. "Yes, Daddy?"

"Did you eat the leaves regularly?"

Slowly the child opened his eyes, still not moving the head, but looking at him. "What do you mean by regularly? Every day?"

"Did you?"

"No, not every day,"

"Harry, this is a serious thing -"

"I know, Daddy. I'm going to die."

"Darling, please. How many did you eat?"

One tear fell down Harry's cheek now. "Seven or eight. I haven't count them," he whispered.

"Harry!" Severus whispered back, horrified.

"I'm sorry."

"I know, my prince, I know."

They sat together for a while, back in the sitting room at Spinner's End and enjoying each other's touch. Severus didn't want to think about what could happen. He just wanted to be with his child, his son, as long as he could.

Yes, his angel was dying. He knew it, but it was so hard, so hard to accept. He'd just found him.

He saw this now. In his despair, his son had traded his life with the one from a ghost. A selfish, tricky and mean ghost

"Son?"

"Yes, Daddy?"

"Where is the Flower Of Life, now?" He looked down at the little boy and then caressed the unruly hair with his chin.

Harry gave him a warm and happy smile. "It's in the pouch, in my pants pocket. But there isn't much left."

Severus nodded silently.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, my son?" He leaned backwards to lock his black eyes with the green emeralds.

"I love you."

Severus buried his head on the child's neck, holding him close, breathing in the little boy's scent. He smelled of the herbs he also used in Spinner's End.

Yes, he could see the love shining in the child's eyes. "I love you, too."

'_Why Harry? Why? Why my son? Why?' _

Sir Frederick had poisoned his son.

It hit Severus right there.

- . -

He withdrew from Harry's mind but he stayed right there in front of his child. Harry looked at him with big emerald green eyes, silent tears running down his cheek.

Shocked, he whispered: "He's been poisoned! My son has been poisoned!"

Then, turning, he yelled after Poppy. He did not want to leave his son's side.

When she came running, pulling a dark red bath robe over her sunny yellow nightgown, he repeated it louder. "He's been poisoned! My son has been poisoned!"

He felt the panic wash over him. "Poppy, you have to save him. You have to get him back. You have to help him! You must do something! My son is going to die!"


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N:**

**This**** Story ****is**** dedicated ****to ****my**** grandfather, ****Ricardo****Wiesenberg,**** who**** passed ****away**** October**** 8****th**** 2011.**

**May**** he**** find**** peace ****wher ever**** he**** went.**

The next weeks will be very busy for me and my family, and because of the funeral I might not be able to write and post anything until the end of November. Please be patient!

_I __am __NOT__ going__ to__ abandon__ this__ story,__ don't __worry._

_Thank __you__ for__ your__ nice__ PM's__ and__ massages__ about__ my__ Grandfather's __death!__ I __appreciate __it __and__ thank __you __for __thinking __of __him __and __me. _:)

**.-.-.-..-.-.-.-.**

**_Also, _****_a _****_BIG_****_ THANK_****_ YOU_**_ to __my __betas __BreannaTala__, __cara-tanaka__, __Zarathustra46,__ and__ Laurenke1__,__ who__ are__ doing__ a__ great __job __editing!__ *wave*_

"**Thank**** you"** to everyone who's left and is leaving a review! I also enjoy the ideas and guesses you come up with. Don't hesitate to let me know of my mistakes, like blue and green blankets… ;) I appreciate and try to change you for staying with me!

Argh, fanfiction is eating my spaces inbetween the words...

_-.-.-.-.-_

_Please be aware of **ALL****WARNINGS**, and remember, I'm not J.K. Rowling, the Harry Potter world doesn't belong to me and the characters will be OOC, of course. So are the surroundings. If you want Snape and Harry be typical "Rowling", you should NOT read this fic. _

_-.-.-.-.-_

_Remember, that not everything is the way it seems and the lastt hing that dies is hope! Vin_

**_x.x.x.x.x.x_**

**x**

.

.

**Chapter 20**

**.**

**.**

"With what? How did he get poisoned? Severus, I don't understand!" Poppy waved her wand over the child again, being watched by the still-crying little boy.

Severus had jumped up from the chair after Poppy had moved to the other side and went to get the child's clothes from the dresser he had placed Harry's clothes in earlier.

"Severus, what are you doing?"

"The flower, he has the flower –"

"What flower?" She looked at him as if he was imagining things.

"The Flower of Life, Poppy! The Rose!" He searched through Harry's pants.

"The … Rose? The Rose!" Startled, Poppy stopped waving her wand and turned to the Potions Master. "He has the Rose?" She asked again in complete astonishment. "How… ?"

Severus did not hear her. He had found a leather pouch and had opened it, shaking out its contents carefully. Now, in the palm of his potion-stained hands lay a small flower bud, a dark red rose, with a silver glittery shining light surrounding it. There were maybe one or two leaves left on it.

Looking up, he met Harry's teary eyes, locking his with the child's. He carefully brushed the little mind, sending it a message. _'__I__ will__ never__ leave __you.__ You__ are__ mine,__ I__ love__ you.__'_

'_Daddy,__'_ he heard the little ones voice in his head. _'__I__ love__ you__ too.__ I__'__m__ sorry.__'_

"Don't." The older wizard rushed forward to the child's side, placed the flower and pouch on the white sheets and grabbed the cramped little hands, which still held the little crystal dragon. "You don't have any reason to apologize. We will save you; I'm not ready to let you go."

He moved his hands to lay them around the child's cheeks, wiping the tears away softly with his thumbs, placed a gentle kiss on the pale forehead and stayed like this for a while.

"Severus?"

The Potions Professor didn't want to move. He wanted to stay here and breathe in his son's scent and feel his warmth.

"Severus?"

He felt Poppy's hand on his arm. He didn't want to look at her. But he did.

"I'm going to run some tests to find out what he's been poisoned with. I will be in and out."

He nodded at her. _'__Whatever.__'_

She took some vials from a little table next to her and went into her office.

Carefully, he picked up that blasted flower and placed it back into the pouch. He extended the string on it a little and slipped it over his head to keep it warmed. He let it fall into the inside of his clothes, against his skin. He would have to do more research on it later.

And right now, he had to wait for Poppy to find out how the child was poisoned.

"All right, son, let's play a game." He sat himself next to Harry's bed on his chair, laying one hand on the boy's hand.

"I will ask you questions, and you will answer with yes and no. Yes is closing your eyes, counting to three and opening them. No is not closing them at all, keeping them open while counting to three, too. Blinking is allowed, but doesn't count. All right?"

The little one looked at him, eyes closing and after the count three, opened. Severus felt himself smiling.

"All right, now here we go, listen closely. Outside of Hogwarts is a forest, it's called the forbidden forest. You are not allowed to go in there. But there are unicorns living. And in the spring there will be some foals. Now, the baby unicorns don't have horns when they are born, they grow later. Actually, when the unicorns don't have a horn you could almost mistake them with a normal, ordinary horse foal. Except that there are no white foals, unless they are albino. A white horse will have a black foal that later on turns white too. Unicorns are usually born white. Sometimes they are very light grey. But there are no brown ones or chestnut or blonde. Very rarely, there is a black one or dark grey and sometimes there are even black ones in adulthood. In the herd outside, in the forbidden forest, there is one black stallion and two dark grey mares. But there must be at least twenty white stallion and mares. Normally in a herd, there are always more mares than stallions. Unicorns are different. They have a more family sense than normal horses."

While he was speaking, he looked at his child. Harry was listening, concentrating. The potions master distracted not just himself but also the boy from nervousness. He could hear Poppy moving around her office and small laboratory. He pretty much covered what was in the book.

"Now, I will ask you some questions about this text and you will answer with yes or no. The unicorn foals born have the colours tan, silver and pink. Do you agree?"

He almost could hear the child giggle. Arching up an eyebrow, Harry looked back without a blink. Severus counting to three silently.

"Good boy." The professor felt proud of the little boy and squeezed his hand for a moment. "The next one: The baby unicorn will tell the mother when it wants to be born by poking her with its horn. Correct?"

Again, the little one gave a sign to "no."

Severus was smiling at him, giving praise.

"Unicorns live in a family clan. True or false?"

Harry closed his eyes and counted. "Yes."

And Severus asked the next question.

After the sixth question the Potions Master realized the child getting tired. Harry's eyes closed more and stayed closed longer.

"It's all right, son, go take a nap. I'll be right here."

And as the child's even breathing told him, he fell asleep.

- . -

Bad dreams were chasing the little guy.

He was back at the Dursley's, but he couldn't move. And when Dudley was bashing him, his blows went right through him. With his body, he couldn't feel a thing but it hurt in his mind. He tried to pick up his arms, to protect his face at least but they felt so heavy, he couldn't move them. He wondered if he had any arms at all. Then, he wanted to pick up his legs to run away but he realized suddenly that the legs he was using before his whole life weren't his. They belonged to Professor Dumbledore and the Professor was standing next to him, wanting them back.

If Harry could have, he would have been tossing and turning. But only sweat that was running down his forehead showed his silent despair.

Severus had not moved an inch from Harry's side. He was reading The Flower of Life book again, now that he had the rose, he understood some things much better.

Once in a while he dozed a little. He would have slept better in his own bed, but he did not want to leave the child alone.

When he was awake, he heard Poppy still moving around in her office. Obviously, she did not find yet what she was looking for.

While he was resting, he was wondering to himself of what the flower was made of. It didn't say anything particular in the book. Perhaps he should go and do some research after all. But he couldn't move from the child's side.

How long would it take for his son to die? How much time had he left?

He realized he wasn't reading anymore and just staring into his book. Looking at his son sleeping, he saw his silent distress immediately.

'_My__child!__'_ Without paying much attention, he dropped the book on the end of Harry's bed and moved to sit on the side of the mattress and grab the child's shoulders with both hands, carefully calling his name to not to startle him.

"Harry, Harry? Wake up, Little One, you're dreaming. Come on, darling, open your eyes, come back to me, please -"

Big emerald coloured eyes opened and were looking at him and he felt so relieved. His hands moved to the child's neck to caress him and to kiss his forehead softly. He couldn't keep his hands off of the child. Still rubbing his neck, he leaned back to look at the little boy closely. The child was mostly skin and bones. Every little muscle or fat he gained while staying at Spinner's End was gone again. _'__What__can__I__do__for__you?__What__can__I__do__to__help__you?_' He was worried. He knew they were running out of time.

He knew that Poppy was fighting for the Little One. And so was he. He laid his head down next to Harry on the pillow and closed his eyes.

**- . - **

"Harry," Severus looked at the pale thin child lying on the bed under soft, fluffy covers next to him. It must be very early in the morning. The sun hadn't risen yet but dawn was just breaking.

A little over one week, he'd had him and now he looked skinnier and sicklier than he was when Severus had found him. Severus didn't understand. How could this happen? The child had eaten at least four times daily. Small portions, but he had eaten! It must have been that blasted flower.

Locking his black eyes with the emeralds, which seemed like twinkling stars in the half-light of the early morning, he sat back up on the comfortable chair next to Harry's bed and took Harry's tender hand in his. Harry's skin was wax coloured, his eyes sunken in – they looked huge. His mouth was dark red, with a pale frame around it. His hair was messy and had started to fall out creating bald spots.

"My Harry," Severus took Harry's hand to his lips to kiss it. "Sweet child." He knew this child was dying; it was just a matter of time.

He brushed the child's mind. _"__Legilimens,__"_ and carefully slipped in.

Once again, he found himself standing in the sitting room of Spinner's End. "Harry?" he whispered and suddenly the picture was fading. The potions master was left, standing in darkness.

"Daddy…" the little skinny child was whispering in his mind.

"Little One, where are you?"

"I'm here, here."

And there was a light, golden sunlight twinkling through green leaves waving in a gentle warm breeze. Birds were singing and Severus was sure he heard water gurgling through a river bed somewhere close. A faint voice was calling "Lily? Severus? Where are you?"

Looking around, seeing the tree trunk and the green curtains out of leaves hanging down, Severus suddenly knew where he was. It was Harry's imagination of the green room. He felt warmth spreading through his body by the love he felt for Lily's little child. Soon, he knew, the little guy would be with his childhood friend.

"Do you think she will find us here?" his thoughts were interrupted by a hoarse whisper. Turning around he saw the child sitting on a log by a small wooden table, smiling at him. A black kneazle was lying on another log, sleeping.

"No, we're safe here. She had never found us when Lily and I were little." Returning the smile, he sat down on the bench across from the child. He suddenly realised a purple bird was circling in the top of the tree_.__ '__Of__course__it__would__be__there,__'_ he thought nodding silently. He brought his thoughts back to Harry, when he saw the child stand up and moving out of the room.

"Come," he heard the child say and held the curtain of leaves open for Severus to step through, too. He did and he was standing in a green, sunny forest. Looking around, he saw his little son standing on the river bench, not far away from him, laughing at him and holding two small wooden boats in his hand. One had a green sail; the other one had a red one. Stepping closer, Severus realised that on the red sail was a picture of a silver snake, slithering at him and on the green one a crystal white dragon, who was spitting golden flames. When Severus looked down to Harry, he also realized that he himself looked younger, like he'd be 12 or 14 years old.

Smiling, he heard Harry's laughter. "Let's race," he called out to Severus. "Let's race!"

The older man suddenly felt the kind of excitement run through him he'd felt racing with Lily. _'__We__need__a__prize,__'_ he thought and to the little one he said: "When you win…"

"When I win," the child interrupted him with a wicked smile and handing him the boat with the dragon sail. "When I win, you owe me an elderberry cake." Giggling he added "And don't forget the sugar on top."

Shaking his head in disbelieve, Severus answered, trying to keep a plain face. "You must be joking. And what do you do, when I win?" He couldn't help it, a smile spread on his face, lightening it.

"I will give you a kiss?"

"I want a kiss anyway, doesn't matter if I lose or win."

"OK, a kiss. And…?"

"When I win," Severus said hoarsely, "You stay with me forever."

"Oh, Daddy, I do that anyway. But what do you want when you win? In real?"

"You. I want you."

The little boy sighed. _'__Gosh,__these __grown __ups.__'_ "In real, Daddy."

"All right, in real. Let me think." He sat down on the river bench, gently touching the small wooden boat and thinking. The child sat down next to him, watching him carefully and enjoying this strange situation. What could the potions master want for a prize?

Severus asked himself the exact same question. _'__What __could__ I__ want__ for__ a__ prize? __Every thing __he__ can__ give,__ he__ already __gave __me.__ I__ don__'__t__ want__ him__ to__ cook__ or__ bake__ something__ for__ me,__ the__ blasted__ relatives__ of__ him__ have__ taken__ too __much__ of__ the__ boy __already__ to__ last__ a __life time.__ I__ would__ want__ something__ special__ – __either__ way, __he __wins__…' _

"All right, I have something."

"Yes?" The little boy looked curious at him.

"When I win, I want you to help me baking the elderberry cakes and I want you to help picking the berries."

"But…"

"No buts, Harry. You have given me everything I ever wanted. I wish for you to stay with me forever, and that wish is beyond your giving. All I want is to be with you, to spend time with you."

"Daddy… I love you."

"I love you too, son." And he found himself being hugged by the little boy. His arms just went around the child to hold him close, the red boat's mast, which he still held in his hand, softly poked into Harry's back. It tickled the little child, and he started giggling.

"All right," Severus said slightly annoyed. "Let's race."

Still grinning, the boy slid off of the elders lap, collecting his abandoned boat from the shore.

"From where to where is the race?" he asked, turning to Severus.

Severus walked up the small river a little, passing two curves. "Here, that's where it starts. Step on this rock and put the boat on the right side of it. I'll have mine on its left. When I say 'GO' you let it go, understood?"

"Yes Sir!" Happily grinning, the child stepped with a big step on the flat rock in the middle of the river, kneeling down and held the little boat on its mast close. He could feel the water whirl touching the boat and the current wanting to take the boat along. _Let__go,__let__go_, it gurgled at Harry. He felt excited and happy, free, and peaceful. That's how he'd always wanted his life to be. That's what he'd wished for. A friend, a Daddy, to spend time with and do great things with. Just like this.

Looking around, he saw just trees. Pine, Oak, Beech, Elm, Basswood, Maple, Ash, Alder, Hazel, Spruce, Cedar, Willow, Aspen, Birch, and other's he didn't know the names of. Some flowers and weeds he didn't know where growing on the embankment. The warm sun was shining through the leaves, making him believe this was a magic place. In his mind, it was summer. He heard birds singing and once in a while there were coming closer, sitting on the willow or hazel right on the waters edge. Upstream, he saw a mallard duck family with six ducklings swimming. More to his right, he heard a woodpecker digging into the wood in a steady rhythm. But as much as he tried, he could not see it. But he could see some sparrows, finches and thrushes. He was sure he also saw a swallow. And he knew somewhere was the purple Martin, the Elderberry bird. He heard the squelch of a hawk and the "shuh" of an owl.

He almost forgot the race and him holding the boat. He came back at once, when he felt a warm tickle on his left ear. "Dreaming?" A dark voice whispered into his ear.

He leaned in the direction on the voice and felt a warm, soft body. Turning his head, he looked right into shining black eyes.

"Yes," he answered. "Can you hear the birds?"

"Yes, I can. It's a beautiful place." And after a pause he asked: "Do you still want do the race?"

"Yes, of course."

"You're ready?"

"Waiting."

"Yeah, right. Dreaming, that's what you're doing."

"Ready, Daddy."

"All right. Ready?"

"Yes!"

"Set -"

Harry felt the excitement rush through his body like spreading fire. It ran from head to toe and back.

"GO!"

And both let go of their ships.

Harry almost fell from the rock when he jumped down to follow his boat on the shore, screaming for it to go faster.

Severus followed the child on the shore, also to spur his boat on. "Go, go, go… faster, yes, go!" Severus felt himself be little again, 7, 8 and 9 at the same time, like he had been when he raced with Lily. Next to him, the little boy was jumping up and down, shouts of encouragements towards his boat.

In the water, two boats where fighting for the first place. They were just going into the first curve.

"Ready about, hard to lee," Severus called out. The green vessel had its bow up front. But in the curve, it got passed by the red.

"Set sail," yelled the little boy next to him. "Set the sails" as if it would be alive and real.

The water must have felt sorry for the child and Severus' boat was struggling in a water whirl. With hand movements and calling out, Severus tried to show his boat around. It worked.

Head to head, they were sailing in the water while Harry and Severus followed them on the shore into the second curve. The red sailed boat passed the green completely but it got stuck on a piece of wood sticking out from the shore.

The green passed the stuck red one but it got itself free to race behind. Right after the curve, the green got stuck in a strudel and was turning in circles.

"Noooo," the child next to Severus screamed and Severus felt excitement run through him.

"Yessss," he yelled, clapping his hands. That was exactly the time his little boat needed to catch up.

Now both boats were going again, head to head, straight down the river to the big river bench where the river would turn to a small waterfall into the canyon and the race would be over.

The silver snake was sizzling towards the dragon on the red sail and it spit golden flames at the snake. "Don't burn it," Harry yelled. "Then you are disqualified!"

Severus couldn't help it. He started laughing. The boy looked up to him, grinning. Then they turned back towards their boats and cheered them on for the long stretch until the finish line.

"Go, go, go, go…" Harry was yelling, still jumping up and down.

"Go, go, go, go…" Severus was calling toward his boat, barely standing still himself.

But all the screaming didn't help, the red dragon passed the green snake and hit the stick first, that Severus had laid across the river for stopping the boats.

"I won," Severus whispered in disbelief.

"I lost." Harry smiled, pulling the green sail boat out of the water and dancing happily around. "I lost, I lost, we're baking Elderberry cakes anyway, I lost, I lost…"

Slightly, Severus was wondering if the child had lost on purpose, but got rid of the thought quickly. It didn't really matter. The child had promised to spend time with him. That alone was like a promise to live.

He pulled the red dragon boat out of the water and sat down on a sunny rock. The child sat down next to him, holding a small flowered wreath up, both boats by their feet.

"It's yours. You won."

Carefully, Severus took it. It looked almost like the ones Lily had made, but not so neat. But for him, it didn't matter, it was the most beautiful wreath he'd ever won. "Thank you," he said and placed it into his inside breast pocket. The he laid an arm around his son, pulling him close to himself.

A warm summer breeze made the leaves around move and playing in their hair. The sun was shining through the leaves, making them believe this was a magic place.

- . –

"Daddy?"

"Hmm?"

"What is the necklace for?"

"What necklace?"

"The one I'm wearing. I realised it was there."

Severus kissed the little head and looked down at his son. Harry had moved his shirt and now they could see the golden amulet with the green stone in the middle resting on the child's bare pale skin.

"It's an amulet, Son, not a necklace. And it's there for your protection."

"My protection, Daddy?"

"Yes, son. There are ancient charms on it, which will protect you. My mother placed a charm on it and so did I. You are protected by our love for you."

"But I don't know your mother. How would you know that she would love and protect me?"

"Little One, you must trust me. I know she would. I used to wear this amulet myself. The charms on it are very strong and very old. Promise me that you will never take it off."

"It will protect me?"

"Yes, Son, it will. Promise me. Say it."

With a sigh, Harry cuddled closer and said: "I promise. I promise I will never take off the amulet."

Relieved, Severus nodded. "Thank you."

"Thank you, too."

- . -

"Daddy?"

"Yes, son?"

"I'm thirsty."

"For real?"

"Yes. Can you give me something?"

Slowly nodding, he answered: "Yes, I can try."

Standing up, they moved back into the green room, where they placed the boats on a shelf.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, son?"

"Will you come back?"

"Do you want me to?"

"Yes, please Daddy. Please come back."

"I will."

And he withdrew from the little mind. Green emerald eyes were following him as he got a cloth, wetting it with water and laid it in the child's mouth on his tongue. The boy was not able to open his mouth anymore, so Severus had to open it with a finger and held it open to place the cloth inside. The child was now complete paralyzed, from head to toe. Only the eyes kept following his movements.

"Severus?"

When he looked up, he saw Poppy just sitting down into the chair on Harry's other side of the bed. She looked worn and tired. Big dark circles where under her eyes and she looked like if she'd cried.

"Poppy!" Severus was shocked. She looked so old suddenly.

"Severus, I can't do anything. We're losing him." Her lip trembled and a tear was falling down her cheek. "All this magic, and it's not possible to save a small child. There's nothing I can do." She took one of Harry's little hands in hers, squeezed it shortly and with a whispered - "I'm so sorry," - she stood up and fled into her own quarters.

Severus stared behind her for a moment. He knew how she felt, but the little one was still alive and even if he couldn't save him, he wanted to be strong for him as long as he was still around. It wasn't time to mourn yet.

- . -

Just when the sun was rising, promising a new sunny, cold winter day, Harry was closing down. His muscles were cramping, his breathing deepening and flattened, faster accelerate heartbeat and slowing down again in the next moment, eyes moving restlessly, sweat showing on his face and he started to tremble all over. All his muscles let go suddenly and he wet the bed, himself and the diarrhea became an unpleasant smell. When Severus placed his hand across the little wet forehead, it felt freezing cold and a minute later, burning hot. Severus knew what was happening. He waved his wand so child could be dry.

"Little one, darling, hold on, I'm coming to be with you," he was whispering to his child.

But he realized Harry couldn't hear him anymore, he had fallen into a coma.

Quickly, he laid himself next to the child on the bed, closing the private curtains around themselves and spelling them closed. He didn't want any interruptions.

Then he pulled his son close to him, laid his fingers onto the child's forehead and whispered: "_Legilimens_."

Darkness.

He couldn't be too late!

"Harry?"

But he got no answer.

"Harry, please, don't leave me like this. Please Harry!"

There, in the darkness was a small light, like a lumos from a wand. Severus stumbled forward. "Harry?"

Silence.

Something was touching his legs. When he looked down he saw professor, Harry's kneazle. He followed the kneazle into the silent darkness, towards the light, with the feeling of moving but not getting closer.

"Harry!" he screamed with despair. He was running out of time.

Suddenly, he saw a body lying in the blue cone of light on a dark brown earth ground. "Harry!" Relief streamed through the older wizards body, he wasn't too late yet as he ran towards the dim spotlight that turned into a soft yellow light floating in through the leaves of trees around him.

When he reached the small figure, he dropped to his knees, scooping one arm under the child's neck, with the other one gathering the boy close to himself, the kneazle purring next to them in the gentle spotlight surrounded by green darkness.

Harry could not speak up any more, he felt so weak.

"Thank you," the child whispered softly. He could feel his energy fading.

"Merlin –" Severus said his voice roughly. "Harry, I wish you would stay with me."

The child opened his eyes and looked at him. Green emeralds, so pretty, so very, very beautiful. He thought of Lily, again all the time passed his inner eye that he'd spent with her, known her. And then the view changed and he saw Harry. A little over one week, one week and two days, he had had the child with him. He had wished Harry would have stayed with him forever.

"Daddy…?"

"I'm here, Harry, I'm here."

"You see . . . the light?"

"Harry . . . "

"There . . . is a . . . light. It . . . touches . . . me . . ."

"Harry," Severus whispered desperately. "Don't go, - Please . . ." He felt pressing Harry's hand on his cheek, just like Harry was doing the first time they'd met, on the graveyard, only nine days ago. He couldn't see the light since it was in the child's inner eye. ". . . Stay with me."

"Daddy . . . It wants . . . me to . . . follow. . ." He heard Harry whisper very silently. "Dad . . . love . . . you . . ." his voice fading.

"Oh Harry, I love you too." And tears ran down his face. He knew it was true. He loved this little one. His warrior, his little angel, the true prince of this world, which had come to him and touched his heart so softly.

"Wait," Severus called behind him, but Harry didn't wait. With a loud "thush" noise, the curtain of leaves were back in place, leaving him behind.

Carefully, he withdrew from the child's now dark mind. Caressing Harry's face softly and realizing the green eyes deeply staring into his own.

He knew Harry was gone.

He looked into the green, loving eyes one more time, before his hand closed them softly. The skin was ash coloured by now and faded into a yellow eggshell colour very quickly.

Severus just sat there, still holding Harry's hand close to him and stroking the boy's face softly with the other hand. "Now you are with Lily and - and . . . your . . . Dad," he whispered. "I . . . I miss you."

He didn't know how long he sat there at Harry's side, when he suddenly felt a warm hand on his shoulder. "Severus," a woman's voice was calling to him.

At first, he showed no reaction.

He didn't want to leave this place where his mind was, where Harry was still alive and with him – so close, just a life apart.


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N:**

**Dear****Readers****and****New****found****friends,**

**Thank****you****very,****very****much****for****all****your****nice****reviews****and****PM's.****Some****made****me****cry****and****some****showed****me****what****life****is****all****about.****Without****human****touch****it****isn****'****t****worth****much!**

**.-.-.-..-.-.-.-.**

_I__am__NOT__going__to__abandon__this__story,__don't__worry._

I don't know if I make a Chapter every week, but every two weeks should be makable.

**.-.-.-..-.-.-.-.**

_Also,__a__BIG__THANK__YOU__to__my__beta__Zarathustra46,__who__did__a__solo__editing__this__time,__so__you__wouldn__'__t__need__to__wait__longer.__*wave*__Any__mistakes__you__find__are__mine,__big__sigh._

"**Thank****you"** to everyone who's left and is leaving a review! I also enjoy the ideas and guesses you come up with. Don't hesitate to let me know of my mistakes, like blue and green blankets… ;) I appreciate and will change it eventually.

_-.-.-.-.-_

_Remember,____that____not____everything____is____the____way____it____seems____and____the____last____thing____that____dies____is____hope!__Vin_

_x.x.x.x.x.x_

**.**

.

.

.

**Chapter 21**

.

.

.

.

"Daddy, look at me!" he heard Harry's voice with a laughing tone in it. "Look how high I am!" He looked up and saw Harry swinging on the swing set at the play park in Spinner's End. He felt the grass under his feet and saw daisies bloom everywhere. The sun shone bright and dappled the grass under the trees. It was a warm summer day. Harry was swinging back and forth, back and forth. But suddenly it wasn't Harry any more. There was still his voice, but it wasn't him on the swing. It was Lily, calling him. He looked towards her, wanted to answer, but he couldn't say anything. He formed "Lily" with his lips, but no sound came out.

The Lily on the swing set changed into the look of a little girl with lightly green eyes and a happy smile. She wore a pastel green summer dress and green ribbons in her auburn hair.

The little girl was smiling at him. She held a flower in her hands, a rose. A dark red rose, with a silver light blooming on the top of the leaves. She was shaking the rose and a leaf fell off. She opened her little mouth and the leaf flew right into it. She was no longer laughing. She fell from the swing – dead.

"Nooooo!" Severus was screaming.

He wanted to run toward the swing set, but he couldn't move. He felt like a _petrificus__totalus_ was cast on him. Instead he heard a hysteric laughing and Harry's whisper in his ears "I love you, I love you, I love you . . ."

"Harry . . ." Severus groaned.

Lily stood next to the little girl, crying. One of her tears flew into the bright green summer grass; it became a cloud and turned suddenly into a figure holding a sword up. A shiny, glittery sword, its top pointing into the sudden night sky.

Then the ghost was aiming the sword at him, laughing Harry's laugh and whispering hoarsely "mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, …" Severus wanted to turn and run, but he couldn't move. And then he fell. He fell deeply and didn't stop falling.

He screamed –

– and landed next to his bed and tangled up into his blankets.

"Severus?" suddenly there was two warm hands, helping him up. "Are you all right?"

He looked up straight into Poppy's worried face.

"I heard you screaming."

"I dreamed Harry had died."

"Oh Severus," Poppy suddenly looked very sad. "It wasn't a dream. Harry. . ." she started sobbing silently. "Poor Harry –" she cried.

"Poppy -" She hugged Severus and he held her closely, both crying desperately. Their tears were caught in a bucket and it flooded over. Suddenly he was on an ancient ship, leaving Poppy to fade away into white mist.

An old black-skinned man with white hair was standing on a long board to jump overboard. It looked like the whole crew was standing there to watch this event happening. He also saw some other black

people standing tied in chains not far away, watching. The man on the board turned to a familiar looking man with a pointy face, dark brown curled hair and beard, dressed in a dark blue velvet robe and trousers. On his right side was hanging a rich looking golden sword. He must have been the captain of this ship.

"You," he heard the old man say with a strange accent. "You will be sorry for this. I damn you for a never-ending death and a never-to-be life. You will have time for 197 years and then you'll have to find someone who will trade with you. You'd better find one with a strong wish. If not, you will burn in hell. You are the slave. My people will be free someday, but you won't. Never!" And with that he jumped off the board where he drowned right away. Severus turned his face to follow the sight of the body, but it seemed as if it had never been there. It was truly gone.

The captain was laughing loudly, and Severus saw with disbelieve him holding up a small leather pouch on a dark brown string. 'The Flower of Life!' It hit him, right there. The Captain, he must be Sir Frederick, that's why he looked so familiar.

Turning around, he saw the slaves moving back under deck. One by one, in small, tiny steps, bones and skin, tied together in heavy iron chains. Suddenly he heard a child crying. "Daddy," he thought the child was crying after the old man, but then he saw a glimpse of white skin in between the dark. No, it could not – but there was. There was Harry, walking in chains following the slaves, tied to them. The boy tried to turn around to get to him, but the chains just pulled him along, away from Severus. The potions master could see the child's despair written in his face.

"Daddy …!"

"Harry!" No, no, no – this wasn't happening! He tried to grab the child, hold on to him, but as more he tried to get to him as faster he was disappearing, fading into blue fog.

"Daddy!" He heard the child calling him.

"Harry!" he called after the child.

Sir Frederick was laughing and somewhere in the haze he heard the old man whisper "… you are the slave, … you are the slave, … you are the slave, … you are the slave, … you are the slave, … you are the slave…"

Suddenly, while still hearing the ghostly whisper, he saw Lily again, walking up to him. She looked at him seriously and said: "You promised, Severus."

"Lily…"

"You promised to keep him safe."

"Lily…I…"

She watched him out of Harry's eyes.

"I promise." Severus whispered and sighed.

Lily's hand went over to caress Severus' cheek. "Severus." Softly she was calling his name.

He caught her hand to kiss it. He realized that they were standing across each other in the green room. It looked just slightly different from Harry's. As much as he loved Lily, he wished he could be here with his child. Where was the Purple Martin? In Harry's green room one was always flying around - he remembered it. _'__Oh__my__Harry,__where__are__you?__'_ he missed him, he missed him so much.

"Severus?"

Oh how he wished it would have been Harry's voice – "Yes?"

"Promise me to love him."

"Yes, I love him," he whispered.

"Raise him, like he's yours."

"He's mine. Harry is mine."

Smiling happily, she handed him a little copper key.

With a lifted eyebrow he looked at her in question. But Lily only smiled at him. "Someday," she said.

He nodded at her and placed the small key in his left trouser pocket.

Still smiling at him she faded away. "I love you," she said and he could still see her warm smile also touching her eyes, which left as last. "Love you, love you…"

Then there was silence.

- . -

She felt like Heidi must have had, after her long trip of coming home; or maybe as Lassie had had felt after she had gotten lost and was found again.

A soft warm feeling spread around her as she was with all her seventeen Kneazles, meeting her family again. There was her sister Caecilia with her husband Magnus, their two sons Alareik and Silvius, also with families on their own.

Then there was Livvy, her wonderful daughter, with her husband Eric, and their children, and Harry in the middle of them, safe and happy laughing as Neil whispered something in his ear. In ghostly shadows were her husband Theodore and her sister Bianca. And all around were any kinds of cousins and aunts and uncles and children running around playing and laughing.

And suddenly, she herself was one of them again, playing with her sister's tea party under an old Tree-of-Heaven in the very back of the garden, the house where Livvy was living now. It was the same house in which she, Arabella, and her sisters had grown up in.

They used the triangular leaves as plates and rolled the large leaves, folding them on the vein, into cups. She had taken the large clusters that the tree provided as fruit for table decorations and heard her younger sister giggling when she placed the small cakes her mother had given her onto one of the big leaves used as plates. Now, all kind of flying insects were circling the cake on this warm summer day. They had to hurry their eating, before the wasps would find it.

"Lady Arabella, would you like to slurp your tea black or white?"

"Oh, Lady Caecilia, it is always so nice to visit you." She tried hard to copy the arrogant movements of her younger sister. Cilia always looked like a fragile ballet dancer.

"Thank you so much for your kind words, Lady Arabella. Lady Bianca, would you like to have a piece of this wonderful coffee-wasp-cake?"

Bianca tried to fold her long legs under herself, without them going to sleep first. A little mocking, she said: "Did you stand in the kitchen all by yourself, baking for us, Lady Caecilia?"

The answer came right away: "Of course, Lady Bianca. I try very hard to poison you with whatever I can." Cilia was trying hard not to laugh, holding one hand on her temple and the other one dramatically in the air as if she had more to say. Giggling the others no longer behaved like ladies.

"Oh, you do, do you?" Bianca's eyebrow rose up as in surprise and she leaned forward to tickle Cilia. The youngest sister tried to hide behind her, Arabella, and Bianca tickled them both now and they tickled back – it was a huge pile with waving arms and legs and laughter.

- . -

The bright blue ocean looked so peaceful. He let himself fall into one of the deck chairs that were standing around him. Next to him was a table with all kinds of goodies on it and an umbrella that kept his place in the shade.

Happily he took some cake and cookies, some of the well cooked meat and a good beer. He enjoyed himself right there, on this wonderful white and sunny beach, with just the ocean around him. He knew in his heart, this was paradise.

Vernon was snoring loudly. Petunia laid her head on his shoulder and was glad for the noise. If the house would have been too quiet, she would have been worried. Just when she wanted to go to sleep, Dudley showed up on the door frame.

"Mummy, I can't sleep."

She sighed. "Oh baby." She got up and carded through his hair. "Should I get you some hot chocolate?"

"Yes, mummy," he whined and moved back into his bedroom, while Petunia went into the kitchen to warm up some milk. She put a generous portion of instant cocoa in a mug, and mixed it with four spoons of sugar. Smiling she poured the warm milk into the mug, and because she had some milk left over, she made herself a half-a-cup too.

With both mugs in her hand, she walked up the stairs, her thoughts with her family, taking the one mug to her sweet little Dudders, who was sound asleep by now.

But it didn't matter to her. She placed the mug on his bedside table and with the other one she paddled back into her room, to sit next to Vernon.

Her sight went over the pictures that were standing on the shelf over her bed. Smiling at her wedding picture, she remembered shortly that Lily had told her Vernon was a bully when she had brought him home to meet her family. She knew Lily had been very, very jealous of her. Always. She, Petunia, was normal and could do normal things. And here was poor Lily, with her abnormal talent, that got her killed one day.

Briefly, she thought about Harry, the freak child. The next day Vernon had opened the cupboard, and the child had been gone. Dissolved into thin air, as freaks seemed to do all the time. She had been relieved that he was gone. She was still wondering if the little boy she had seen in the store the other day had been Harry, but she wasn't so sure about it. The boy had been smaller than Harry and had looked peaceful with that other man, and they had looked so alike, like a father with his son. It couldn't have been the freak. Neither Dudley nor Piers seemed to have recognised the child.

She had cleaned out the cupboard, and now it was what it was supposed to be: A place to store cleaning supplies. Nothing would show that a second child had ever been living in this house before.

Happy and still smiling, Petunia touched the wedding picture softly; she got pregnant shortly after the wedding, just like her sister, and had given birth to her wonderful little Dudders.

Surprised, she realized she had drunk her cocoa and held an empty mug in her hand. Without a second thought, she placed the cup on the shelf, next to the wedding picture and laid herself next to her snoring husband, snuggling closer to him.

When she closed her eyes, she thought his snore sounded just like waves on the shore. Fading away into a deep sleep, she happily dreamt about a childhood as an only child.

- . -

The white Unicorns galloped through the warm purple sand. In front was a white dragon and on it a young man wearing golden armour. In his left hand he was holding a round, golden shield, with four animals on it: a raven, a badger, a snake and a lion and in his right swinging a sword adorned with rubies, the one of Godric Gryffindor.

Albus stepped out of the white gate to greet the stranger who stopped the huge dragon in front of the gate. The old wizard gave a friendly wave and asked him how his trip had been.

But the young man did not say a word. When he slid off the dragon, and passed Albus to go into the house, Albus had the odd feeling as if the young man did not really exist. Was he dreaming?

When he turned to walk the path back to his airy sitting room, he found the young man sitting, still in full armour on a wooden chair Albus didn't know he had. Through huge glass windows, the sun was shining and made everything warm. The sunlight was twinkling and blinding in the armour, but the knight didn't move when Albus asked if he would like to take it off.

He laid the sword on the stone floor and Albus had the impression as if this sword would symbolize a border, like a magic age line. As much as he wanted, he could not pass it.

"Who are you?" Albus shouted. How could this knight just come in here, sit in his sitting room and draw an age line? And all that without introducing himself first! _'__This__is__rude,__' _he thought madly.

But the knight didn't move.

After awhile of waiting, Albus sat down too, on his red sofa, pulled a book out and started reading.

When he looked up again, the knight was gone and on his place sat a little child, a little boy with dark hair. "Harry!" Albus jumped up, his book falling on the floor. The little boy turned his head to look at him. The eyes of the child were black and glittering madly.

"But…" Albus didn't know what to say. He had never seen this child before. He went in his thoughts through all the children in Hogwarts, but none looked like this one. Close, but not like this one.

The boy in front of him started to grin widely at him and Albus thought there were pointy teeth showing through the pale lips. But the child did not open his mouth for him to double check. _'__A__Vampire__child?__'_ he thought surprised. Suddenly he realised the pointy ear tips on the kids' ears. _'__An__elves__child?__'_ He was wondering now. Looking at the child closer he saw hooves instead of legs. _'__A__centaur__child?__'_ He started to feel confused. He was watching the boy now. He shouldn't have been so surprised when he saw a Horn growing on the child's forehead. When the boy opened his mouth, he expected a growl or a hiss, but there was just bird chirping.

Albus had to clench his mouth so he wouldn't gape at the creature in front of him. And he wasn't surprised at all when he saw wings growing out of the back of the child. The boy was still smiling at him when he stood up again. But it wasn't a boy anymore. It was a man. The young man held up a gloved hand toward the sword, and it came to him as if it had a mind of its own. He slipped it into a scabbard on his hip. He still wore the amour, but he also was dressed in a long dark blue robe. The wooden chair disappeared and suddenly they were standing outside, surrounded by purple sand. Thousands of stars were twinkling in the black night sky. The moon was huge and it looked like it was so close it could have been touched with an outstretched hand.

A couple of stars fell into the sand. Albus wanted to get one, but while they were still falling, they changed into unicorns, which were running toward the silent young man. The young man touched one unicorn with his finger and it changed into a white dragon.

Silent, the young man jumped up on the dragon's back.

"Wait!" Albus walked toward the knight on the dragon.

The young man looked down at the old wizard and drew the sword. Godric Gryffindor's sword.

"Please, you can't leave like this. What is your massage?" The young man was now grinning madly at the old man and before Albus couldn't do anything, the other man picked up the sword high and let go of it. The sword was hovering freely before it picked up speed and raced towards Albus. He wanted to duck but wasn't fast enough. The sword hit in his heart.

"Urgh -" He couldn't believe it. He was hit!

With the right hand he wanted to pull the sword out of his heart while the left hand was holding the bleeding wound. But his hand went right through. He could see the sword sticking out but he couldn't touch it.

He heard the young knight laughing. When he looked at him, he saw the sword in the knights' hand and the young man sheathed it back. He turned the dragon and left, leaving Albus behind.

The white Unicorns galloped through the warm purple sand. In front was a white dragon and on it a young man wearing a golden armour. In his left hand he was holding a round, golden shield, with four animals on it: a raven, a badger, a snake and a lion and in his right swinging a sword adorned with rubies, the one of Godric Gryffindor.

- . -

Before Poppy turned off her bed light, she was, as always, reading some poems. But tonight it was odd for her. She saw a silver shining creature sitting across from her on her bed, speaking a poem which sounded just like a prophecy:

.

"Although I enter not,

Yet round about the spot

Oft' times I hover;

And near the sacred gate,

With longing eyes I wait,

Expectant of her.

.

The minster bells tolls out

Above the city rout,

And noise and humming;

They've hush'd the minster bell;

The organ 'gins to swell;

She's coming, she's coming!

.

My lady comes at last, Timid and stepping fast

And hastening thither.

With modest eyes downcast;

She comes – she's here, she's past!

May heaven go with her!

.

Kneel undisturb'd, fair saint!

Pour out your praise or plaint

Meekly and duly;

I will not enter there,

To sully your pure prayer

With thoughts unruly.

.

But suffer me to pace

Round the forbidden place,

Lingering a minute,

Like outcast spirits, who wait,

And see, through heaven's gate,

Angels within it."

.

With every word she saw the ghostly scenes before her eyes and fading away. With a smile on her face she drifted into a deeper sleep.

- . -

In the early morning hours, Minerva was turning and twisting in her bed. She did not understand what had happened. Dreaming about it didn't help either. The whole night she was more or less awake, drifting in and out dreams and waking up again.

First she was dreaming lovely dreams about Lily and had nightmares in between about James. In one of these dreams she had witnessed Severus saving James' life. Oh, she was so glad that this didn't happen in real! She also had dreamed about James torturing Severus while in the background she had seen shades of other boys as well. Right now she was drinking a mug with warm milk for calming herself down. She had felt so sorry for the poor Slytherin boy. Thank Merlin; it had just been a dream!

Placing the mug on the bedside table, she fell drifting back into another dream. This time it was about Harry, who was placed into Gryffindor and she was his guardian. He had some friends and was meeting Voldemort. She dreamed about him fighting the evil wizard while only eleven years old and defeating him - again. She felt as proud as Saint Mary must have been who'd had a son who could walk on water and speak to the animals and the souls of children. Yes, she just knew that Harry could have done this too. Maybe she should change the boys name into something more spectacular. 'Harry' was just such ordinary name. When she was little, she remembered her great-grandmother had called the devil "Old Harry." She saw it in a half dream, how people from all over the world come to worship the small, green-eyed boy. Maybe she could call him Chrisophòros, Pankratius or Hoymar. No, what about Pantalèon. Oh, she liked that one!

But something was off; she felt it in her dream. And suddenly, wide awake, she knew what was wrong. The child, the hero of the world, had died!


	22. Chapter 22 Part 1

**A/N:**

**.-.-.-..-.-.-.-.**

_Yes, I understand the last Chapter was confusing – believe me, you will understand some time and the Chapter is needed. _

I don't know if I make a Chapter every week, but every two weeks should be makable.

**.-.-.-..-.-.-.-.**

_Also, a BIG THANK YOU to my beta __Zarathustra46,__ who did a solo editing this time, so you wouldn't need to wait longer. *wave* Any mistakes you find are mine, big, BIG sigh. Don't hesitate to let me know of my mistakes, like spelling mistakes… ;) I appreciate and will change it eventually._

**.-.-.-..-.-.-.-.**

"**Thank you"** to everyone who's left and is leaving a review! I also enjoy the ideas and guesses you come up with. Some of you write that I made you cry, - I'm sorry for that. I must truly say, that some of your reviews make me cry too, and I feel really, really touched. Thank you so much.

**.-.-.-..-.-.-.-.**

_ Remember, that not everything is the way it seems and the last thing that dies is hope! Always! Vin_

_**x.x.x.x.x.x**_

**.**

**.**

**The Dance Of Death**

.

In its beauty,

It is darkness,

It asks to follow,

It catches and holds on –

It is meant to die,

It's the Dance –

.

Dance of beauty,

Dance in darkness,

Dance of catching,

Dance for meaning,

Dance to follow and dance to flow,

It is the Dance – of Death.

(_Misty Richards for "The Midnight Ghost"_)

.

.

**Chapter 22**

**Part 1**

.

.

Transience is the Soul of existence.

It is what all Life gives worth, dignity and interest.

It gives time where there's no transitory.

Not Beginning and End, Birth and Death, there's no time.

Timelessness is the standing Nothingness.

(_Thomas Mann_)

.

.

Carefully Severus had laid the dead body into a small room next to the infirmary. It was a dark room, with only one small window and grey stone walls around. The window looked pretty with the thin iron bars that held the small glass pieces together. It reminded him of a church window, just without any coloured glass. It was open just a crack now, for the little soul to fly out when it felt it's time to leave.

The child was lying on a wooden table, which was covered with a fluffy, soft sunny-yellow blanket; Poppy had placed it there so the child would not have to rest on the hard surface of the old stone table. Eight red candles were giving light, standing in a half circle around Harry's head and a ninth one was by his feet.

Everybody in Hogwarts could come, to give him the last greeting. The Professor's who had just seen the child alive in the infirmary couldn't believe what had happened. One by one came by, touching the small boy on his cold fingers, and face. Some stayed to say a prayer, some just said nothing at all and some left as soon as possible, while some stayed for a long time.

Nobody had told it to the students, and no one wanted to tell it to them either. The rest of the wizarding world did not know what had happened to their hero and the teachers had no desire to tell them yet. They had to, eventually. They knew.

Pomona Sprout was crying silently as she laid a Mermaid's Rose down between the child's fingers, as if he would hold the blue flower himself. It was charmed to stay fresh until the boy would be buried. On both sides, next to Harry were two chairs. The one on his right side was for visitors, where Professor Sprout was sitting right now, talking quietly to the child. She knew the little soul was still around.

The chair on Harry's left side was for the guardian, who would need to stay with the child for the next three day's. Filius had volunteered for the first night to be on guard. Severus had wanted to, but Poppy had promised to dose his tea with a sleeping potion, if he didn't get any rest soon.

Severus felt exhausted while sitting on a stone bench on the wall by Harry's feet, under the window. When he would lean forward and stretch his hand out, he could touch the small feet. Had it not been yesterday that they had been shopping to cover those feet in thick and warm winter boots? Wasn't it just yesterday that he, Severus, had transfigured a napkin into some cosy green socks?

Madame Hooch sat herself down next to Severus on the stone bench. She did not touch or talk to either of the people in the room. But she did carry a stick along, with which she was playing absently with her fingers. When Severus looked up at her toying hands, he was surprised as this stick turned into a limb of an Elder tree. He couldn't help himself and touched the small dry leaves of the magical charmed limb.

Sadly smiling at him, Madame Hooch said quietly: "Elderberry. It's not a good flying wood, but it is the door from the living to the dead. It will protect the little guy and heal whatever needs healing." She wanted to say more, but tears just fell down her cheeks. She took out a white laced handkerchief and tried to dry her eyes. "Ex… cuse me, Sev… er… us…" Standing up, she took the chair Pomona just had left and laid the Elderberry next to Harry on the fluffy blanket.

Severus followed her with his eyes and remembered the story he had told his son of his own childhood. He knew the bush would grow nicely on his Little One's grave.

He felt long forgotten tears collect in his eyes. He didn't want the other's to see him cry, but he couldn't leave his child alone either. Oh, how he wished he could just gather the small body and take him along, his little son, holding him close, or even better if he could just come along with him. Trembling, Severus stood up. He needed to get out of here and to a place where he was alone. Alone with Harry.

- . -

Albus Dumbledore couldn't believe it. This child, this very small and skinny creature was suppose to be the golden angel, the one to save the world? Now the prophecy couldn't get fulfilled, not with Harry anyway_. 'Maybe I was mistaken,'_ Albus thought sadly. _'Maybe this wasn't about Harry Potter at all? But Tom marked him - what am I'm going to do? Where are we going to find a new saviour?'_

His thoughts in circles, he sighed and stroked Harry lightly on his forehead, laying the scar open.

'_What are we suppose to do?'_ he thought full of despair and fell onto the visitor's chair, looking at the child up and down.

Then he looked at Poppy, who had claimed the other chair until Filius would take over for the night. "How did this happen, Poppy?"

The medi-witch kept her sight at Harry and didn't answer right away.

"I don't really know, Albus." She sighed sadly, but continued after a while. "He got poisoned. He was already sick when Severus found him. It must have been a slow working poison." She looked up, but watched out that she would not look directly into the headmasters eyes. "I have no idea what those muggles all did to him. What I could fix, I fixed." She cupped the little boys face with her right hand and her thumb softly caressed over the now forever closed emerald eyes and his cheek. She looked back down at the child.

"They had tortured the little boy, Albus. If he didn't die from a poison, he would have died by their treatment. How could you have left him there? He was so sweet…" She couldn't finish her sentence. Leaning forwards, she placed her head in her other hand, the elbow up on the table, touching Harry's elbow and silent tears found their way down her face and dropped onto the sunny, yellow blanket.

Albus stared at her speechless. _'Poppy is crying?'_ In his thoughts he was shaking his head in disbelieve. _'That can't be. Not Poppy…?'_

But then he wondered about something she had said. _'… They had tortured the little boy, Albus. If he didn't die from a poison, he would have died by their treatment.' The Dursley's had mistreated the child? Poisoned him? But why would they do such thing? Surely, they had loved him – didn't they? And even if not, he was supposed to be strong and not cuddled. They'd kept him after all…'_ He started to feel confused. He should ask Severus about Harry and the Dursley's – but when he looked around, there was no sign of the Potions Master.

Feeling pretty odd, he stood up and walked back to his office. He had to think about what to do with those Dursley's and what to do with the Prophesy. He needed a new boy-who-lived, desperately.

- . -

Minerva had listened to Albus and Poppy's talking. She remembered how the little boy looked when she had seen him in the infirmary for the very first time since that night, seven years ago. She had known from the beginning, when Albus had placed Harry on the Dursley's doorstep, that it had been a terrible idea.

She wanted to sit by Harry and protect the little soul, but she had to do something first, something very important. She wished there could have been a possibility for her to have the guardianship of Harry, but now it made no sense to apply for it, since the child has passed away.

She went into her private Chambers in Gryffindor Tower and moved to the big window in her sitting room to look outside at the beautiful landscape. She didn't really see the snow covered trees or the white winter wonderland. She paid no attention to Hagrid who was throwing snowballs for Fang. The huge dog ran for them and searched with his nose for the balls – but couldn't find them any more. Disappointed he returned to the half giant, who just threw a new ball.

Then, with a sudden idea, she knew what she had to do. With new energy, she turned to her office, locked the door and placed a silencing charm. Out of a small golden porcelain vase she gathered some floo powder and threw it in the fire, which turned green immediately.

"Ministry of Magic, child welfare," she said and fell nicely on her knees. She was not able to floo through, but she could do a floo call.

It didn't take long for her to receive someone who was in charge and make a report of Harry. She told of the Dursley's, the injury's the child had had, the poison and ended with "… the boy was locked up like a slave in their house."

Mrs Theresa Cross and her young assistant Bruce on the other side in the Ministry almost couldn't believe what they heard.

"And this happened to Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived? Are you sure?" the young man asked.

"Yes," Minerva nodded seriously.

"You know that we need to check this, right?" Theresa sighed with a plain face. "When it is really that bad, we need to make a report to the muggle police and their child welfare."

Minerva nodded again.

"Would you give us your memory's if needed?" Bruce asked and wrote something down on light blue parchment.

"Yes, I would."

- . -

Severus tried to occupy his mind to something else. First, he went into his sitting room in the dungeons, to read. But every time he thought he could finally concentrate of reading, he thought he heard Harry calling him.

"Daddy?"

He looked up from the book to listen closer, but everything was silent. After a while of listening, he would turn back to his book, just to stop minutes later, after hearing a faint "Daddy?"

He was wondering if he would lose his mind now.

Placing the book back on the table, he decided to go to his office to research some things.

But as soon as he had his mind on witchesweed and hiyapseeds he heard it again. "Daddy?"

"Harry?" he whispered hoarsely into the cold air. "Where are you?" He couldn't sit still. Getting up from his chair, he started pacing the room. Maybe he should go back to the little body, to see if he was all right?

He opened his office door and looked outside. And listened. Nothing. Everything stayed silent. He closed the door behind him and walked up in the direction of the room his little son was in right now. Once in a while he heard children laughing from behind closed doors. First he was wondering about that, but then he realised that it was still in the beginning of the school year, only December, and the holidays were still a week ahead. He had no desire to be seen by any of the students, so he tried to move in the shadows as much as he could. Every time he would stop walking, he heard the quiet "Daddy?"-call from somewhere above him.

In the entrance hall he wanted to turn right toward the little stone room. With Harry in it. But he stopped in his tracks when he heard the faint "Daddy?" from his left.

'_The Infirmary?'_ he was wondering surprised, but followed the call. Looking around, he made sure no one would be there watching him, and opened the door carefully.

Slipping in, he quietly closed the door behind him and turned around to face the empty white beds. There was no one there, he was alone.

The bed that Harry had occupied, wasn't made new yet. The blanket was crumbled up and his little pyjama was still on the pillow. There also was Severus' Treasure box and … the Professor!

Sitting down on the bed, he petted the black Kneazle over its head. "Hey there," he said quietly. "Were you calling me?"

Even if the cat like Plushy did not answer, he had the feeling it would purr at him.

He collected everything that belonged to Harry or him, shrank it and placed it in his pocket. The last thing he took along was the Kneazle.

"Come, Professor, let's go home," he mumbled and picked up the stuffed animal like it would be very fragile and is worth a fortune. He shrank it and placed it in his pocket with the other things. One last time, looking around carefully, he placed his head on Harry's pillow to breath in his little son's scent. He could smell the lavender soap Harry had used in Spinner's End. He remembered the green room, the last race, the purple martin and Sir Frederick's memory.

He had to get out of here, before someone would find him in this way – and before he realised what he was doing, he snatched up the pillow and hid it in his cloak, leaving the hospital wing as fast as he could, to get back to his own privacy, the dungeons.


	23. Chapter 22 Part 2

**A/N:**

_Dear Readers and Reviewers,_

_I am so impressed by all the reviews you wrote, thank you so much! Actually I wanted to wait with the next Chapter until tomorrow, to make it into a 4__th__ of Advent present to you (and it is, just a day earlier. I'm sure you don't mind :)) - but after I read your reviews I thought I'll give it to you today._

_ I hope this time the spaces between my ____cursive __ writing will not be eaten... ;-)_

**.-.-.-..-.-.-.-.**

_A BIG THANK YOU to my beta __Zarathustra46,__ who did a solo editing again, for the same reasons than last time. *wave* Any mistakes you find are mine, big, BIG sigh. Don't hesitate to let me know of my mistakes, like spelling or grammar… ;) I appreciate and will change it eventually._

**.-.-.-..-.-.-.-.**

"**Thank you"** to everyone who's left and is leaving a review! I also enjoy the ideas and guesses you come up with. Some of you wrote I made you cry, - I'm sorry for that. I must truly say, that some of your reviews make me cry too, and I feel really, really touched. Thank you so much!

**.-.-.-..-.-.-.-.**

_ Remember, there is always light on the end of a tunnel, doesn't matter how long the tunnel seems to be! Always! Vin_

_**x.x.x.x.x.x**_

**Chapter 22**

**Part 2**

Lunchtime wasn't really silent.

The children were chatting like always, some teachers speaking quietly with each other, but most of them being silent, within their own thoughts. About half of the staff had said their good-byes to the little-boy-who-once-lived; the other half would come either this afternoon or the next two days.

Severus sat in his usual spot, barely eating. He knew he had to eat something for not alerting his Slytherin's or Poppy, but also for keeping his strength. He still could hear the faint "Daddy?" call out of the dungeons and he was sure it was because of the kneazle.

He had placed the stolen pillow in his bed, with the Professor on top of it, and he knew this night he would be able to sleep because his little one would be so close. Harry's clothes and his treasures he had placed on his dresser. He would take it along, next time when he returned to Spinner's End.

Filius had chosen the seat next to him, while Poppy still sat with Harry. He didn't say a word, but once in a while Severus felt his gaze on him.

The headmaster was completely in his own thoughts, eating mechanically, without a second thought. Severus was wondering for a slight moment if Albus felt sorry for his actions of leaving his son with these muggles – but then he remembered Harry in this room alone, with Poppy.

He pushed his plate away from him with almost too much force. He couldn't stand being in this hall, with that much noise anymore. Mumbling an excuse toward Filius, he exited the hall on the side door, returning into a place of peace.

- . -

In the afternoon, Albus caught the Potions master while he was outside looking at the lake. It snowed and the white landscape reminded them of a fairy tale. If one didn't know the area, one had to guess what was placed under the hills of snow.

But neither Albus nor Severus had an eye for the beauty of this winter day.

Severus was far away with his thoughts, wishing he could be where Harry was right now, missing the small child deeply.

Albus thought's were very different. He was in need of a new warrior, a new child-that-survived, someone else who fulfilled the Prophesy. And he had a child in mind too, but this one was well guarded. Of course he felt bad about losing the original child-that-lived, and it never was supposed to happen that he died – but he did. Albus had a great idea how to set free the new boy-who-lived and that was why he needed to talk to the potions master badly.

"Severus!"

The Potions Master stood by the lake, leaning on a tree, his arms around his body, his elbow supported by one hand, resting his chin in his other hand.

In his thoughts he was with Harry, remembering him playing with the now abandoned magical blocs by the heath of the fire in the Spinner's End sitting room. He remembered trying to read while watching the child and listening to him while the boy was playing he had told his Professor a story quietly about what he was playing. He himself had either sat in his favourite armchair, to read, or made lunch, dinner or was occupied with something else.

But he had enjoyed the child. He had loved him. He just wished the boy would have stayed with him forever. _'I wish he would come back to me.'_

"Severus?"

He remembered the day when Harry's sentences had all started with "Severus?"

"Yes?" He answered automatically.

"I was looking for you."

A hand moved forward and laid itself on his arm. Looking at it he realized that this was not Harry's and he was not in Spinner's End, nor was it Harry that had called him. He came back to the present immediately. Looking at Albus' hand in discomfort he remembered his child, his son who had died.

He recognised Albus' hand and staring, he lowered his arms so the headmaster's hand would fall down and he felt vulnerable.

Albus moved his hand to the professor's shoulder and looked into his silent profile.

"Severus, what is the matter with you today? Are you feeling all right?"

The Potions master occluded his mind. He did not need Albus to see his memories of happier times. "I'm fine," he said, staring into the lake but seeing nothing. All his senses where in alarm position; protecting his mind, thoughts and body.

Albus nodded absently. He didn't really want to know about Severus problems – he had plenty of his own. "Severus, I need you to brew a special potion for me."

The pronouncing on the word _special_ made Severus to push the thoughts about Harry to the side and turn his head slightly to face the headmaster. He gave a curious look and his full attention to Albus.

"What potion do you have in mind?"

Moving to the side, taking his hand from Severus shoulder he folded his hands in his long sleeves of his midnight blue robe. "For the greater good there are some who we need to help move on to the next great adventure silently and undetected."

Severus couldn't help it, he chuckled. "A poison then. Who are you planning to kill?"

Looking out to the frozen shore of the lake, Albus said after a while: "I'm sorry, but I don't think that is something I can tell you."

"Albus," The Potions Master was wondering if he really wanted to know the answer. Maybe it was better when he didn't. So he just nodded.

Still concentrating on the shore, the older wizard didn't say anything right away. "My boy," he sighed and continued to answer the silent question after all. "The times are getting harder. We need to be ready, even if it looks sunny outside now. But dark times will come and we must be prepared. The

war will not wait on us to have the right weapons… you know that, don't you?" He didn't finish his sentence, but Severus knew anyway what he was asking for and whom he was talking about.

'_Yes, the Dark Lord will return, I know.'_ Just the thought made him shuddering.

The potions master turned back to look at the lake once more. The silent beauty from before had disappeared. Death seemed to be so close, hiding in the shadows.

'_Oh Harry, you can't leave me like this. Where are you? I wish you had taken me along, or come…'_ but he couldn't finish thinking the sentence. _'My child,'_ he thought instead _'My sweet, little child.'_

With this thought he was caressing the child in his mind. He wanted – no, he needed to be alone… alone with Harry.

He turned around to leave this place to be somewhere where he would find refuge.

"Severus?"

This time he realized it wasn't Harry right away. He had forgotten Albus, but he was aware of his surroundings immediately.

"Where are you…?"

"I have a potion to brew." The potions master interrupted the headmaster impatiently and without a look back moved towards the castle, into his dungeons.

- . -

In the late afternoon, a visitor came from outside of Hogwarts to give her regards to Harry and to visit her friend. A tall, skinny, but elegant lady wearing a huge, funny looking hat, came walking through Hogwarts front gates, a small boy with dark hair following her. With big brown eyes he looked around at the castle, acting like he never had been here before. Climbing up the stairs to Gryffindor Tower, the small boy got quite exhausted.

"Keep up," he heard the harsh voice of the older lady. She walked right up to Minerva's office and knocked on her door two times, hard.

When Minerva opened, a smile went across those strict features of the other woman.

"Augusta," Minerva couldn't hide her smile. Neither could the other lady.

"Minerva, it is so good to see you."

"Please, come in." Shaking her hand politely with the little boy, she opened the door wider to invite them inside. "Neville, nice to see you." She closed the door behind them and invited them to sit on the small sofa in the corner next to the fireplace.

"Can I get you something? Tea?"

"Tea would be fine," Augusta took her dark cloak off and laid it over the back of the red velvet sofa. Neville did the same, copying his grandmother, while Minerva called a house elf to order tea and some biscuits.

When the tea arrived, she served it to her guests, Neville sitting next to his grandmother on the sofa, getting bored pretty soon.

"Sit still," Augusta handed Neville a biscuit. He munched it along listening to the older ladies talking. But soon he was fidgeting again and Augusta asked if Neville was allowed to walk around the castle.

"Of course," Minerva said and called one of the house elves to keep an eye on the small boy. Happily, Neville jumped up, listened only with a half ear about being polite and not getting into trouble and was out of the door fast, in tow a little elf, only half his size.

While Neville was exploring the castle on his own, after a little chatting between the two older ladies's Augusta looked quite serious. She leaned forward and laid a hand on Minerva's knee.

"Minerva, now tell me, what is bothering you?"

The professor did not expect something like that. Tears found the way down her cheeks and she cried silent for a little while, quietly comforted by Augusta.

When she was able to dry her tears, she told her friend what had happened.

- . -

Neville was bored.

Of course he had heard a lot about Hogwarts and he was really eager to go to school here, but when he was eleven. Before he came here today, he was playing magic marbles with a neighbour girl. Normally he didn't care about Fran, but he was winning today, and Fran had this really nice purple marble he wanted to win.

So today, when Fran's grandma came to see his, Neville's Gran, he didn't mind Fran. They were playing nicely, until Gran came to make him leave in the middle of his winning game.

Now, he felt grumpy and bored.

Carefully he was walking down the Gryffindor stairs towards the Great Hall. Everything was silent; the children in this school must be occupied into afternoon school or in their own rooms. That didn't help Neville at all. He was dragging his feet, keeping his head down and touching the wall on his right without any thought.

When the hallway ended he was wondering if he should turn left or right. Both sides pretty much looked the same, so he couldn't really decide which way to take.

He pushed himself back into the tunnel he came from when he saw a man, about his own size open a door to his left. Leaning forward, he could see a lot of candle light coming out of this room. The little man left the door a little ajar, so Neville could sneak up to the open door to look inside.

A little boy, as little as he was himself, was lying on a yellow blanket covered stone table. He didn't move and there were big candles all around him. Flowers were on his sides, weird ones, Neville had never seen before, in all colours.

A woman, he knew it was Madame Pomfrey, sat on one the side of the table in a chair, her elbows at the table, and head in her hands. Was she crying?

The little man was standing next to her, his hands softly on her shoulders, speaking to her.

Who was that boy?

Hesitant about what to do, he stayed right where he was, until he heard a noise opposite from him on the other side of the hallway. Quickly he moved back into the hallway he had come from and studied a painting of a landscape. Surprised, his eyes fell on a cat that suddenly appeared around the corner.

"Oh," he said, "Hello Kitty, or are you a Kneazle?"

The cat just stood there as if it would be frozen. Neville was watching it as close as the cat was watching him. Neither moving a bit.

Then, suddenly the cat went with a long "Miouuu" and widely jumped around the corner, back from where it came from.

Even before Neville could turn back to the painting, he heard his Gran followed by Minerva, come down the stairs from the tower.

Both ladies were giving Neville an irresolute smile.

Saying good-bye right there, Minerva went toward the room Neville had seen Madame Pomfrey in. Gran laid her hand on his shoulder and walked him out the entrance door and back home.

- . -

At dinner Albus tried to be his normal happy self, for not drawing too much attention to the silent teacher table.

Severus wished he could have stayed in his quarters, and not have to do this farce. As soon as he left his rooms, he had heard Harry call again. He was sure now, that it was the Kneazle, calling him in Harry's name. He knew, he never would be able again to leave the stuffed animal in the attic of Spinner's End. He needed that Kneazle as much as Harry had needed him, Severus.

He was so much drawn into his thoughts, that he did not see the big brown post owl, which had landed next to his plate, right away. Impatiently it finally drew its beak along his hand and with sudden surprise of pain, he drew his hand back. Almost cursing the owl, and with a growl instead, he freed the bird of the letter, which he then stuffed unnoticed in his pocket. The owl looked at him as if the Potions master had already lost all his marbles and, opening its wings, flew out of the hall in a huff.

Albus was shaking his head with a smile over Severus' behaviour, but Severus did not realize it. As soon as he could he left the Great Hall to return to his Quarters. He had the urgent need to be by himself, and Poppy did say she wanted him to rest.

Back in his rooms he undressed himself to his shirt and trousers and sat in his favourite armchair by the fire, with some special brand of firewhisky and a book. He didn't bother to get a glass. He started off reading but soon he realised he was just staring in the flames, or reading the sentence four times and still not understanding it. It was like he suddenly was reading Chinese. With a loud 'thud' he closed the book and laid it carelessly on the little table on the left side of him. Picking up his head, he saw the kneazle waiting in his bed. And seeing the Professor, he remembered the letter he got this evening. Lethargic he picked himself off of the chair to get to his cloak to take the letter out of its pocket.

Not bothering to look at the seal, he clumsily opened the letter.

.

_Dear Mr. Severus Tobias Snape,_

_With this letter we announce you to be the official guardian of one Harold James Potter. _

_Since the child is diciest, there will be no objection from our side into adoption. With the following document you are the true father of one Harold James Potter Snape. _

_There will be a three day period for filling an objection only, because of the child's passing. _

_Sincerely, _

_Bruce H. Will, Magicially Child Welfare, Ministy Of Magic_

.

Completely numb, Snape dropped the letter and all documents with it. This is what they'd wanted, he had wanted to be the father of Harry, and Harry had wanted to be his, Severus', son. His prince, his future king – his inner eye saw horses passing and knights on their backs, all ready so save the king, the future king of the magical world.

No, he didn't want to think about this tonight. Pushing it away and gaining his occlumency shields up, he got up from the chair and moved into his bedroom, the papers all over the floor.

- . -

Augusta Longbottom had a nightmare that night. She was turning and twisting in her bed. She dreamed that she was in a house that was tiny, like a doll house and she had trouble with her own size since she was too big. Just when her back was glued to the ceiling, her head bumped into the other wall and muscles and bones started hurting, the room grew bigger. The whole house grew taller. But it was dark, no light anywhere. She tried to get her wand but she couldn't find it. While feeling despair rise, she suddenly heard a piercing scream that went through her and left her shaking in the middle of the room.

'_What was that?' _ She felt a cold touch down her back and it left goose-bumps all over. _'This can't be true, where am I?' _

"Neville?" she yelled. "Where are you?" But instead of an answer, she heard him crying. She stretched out her arms and felt for the door. She wondered if she was in a maze, because there were hindrances in her way she had to find a way around.

"Neville?" she kept calling out to the crying child. "Neville, I'm here, I'm here!"

Finally she made it to the door and when she opened it she looked out in a dark corridor with stairs up on the end. She could hear noise of running feet, but couldn't see anything. But wasn't there a light, up in the first floor? Still hearing the child cry, she followed the light up. The stair way was very long, and she heard the wood cracking – not just under her feet, but all over. But wasn't she alone?

When she finally made it, she realised the first floor was empty. It was a dark wooden circular room, with many doors leading from it. There was one window on the opposite wall, the white curtains hanging to the sides. A bright light that was glued to the ceiling gave an almost sunny impression.

The crying had changed into whimpering. It sounded as if it would come from behind one of the doors. With silent feet, she walked up to listen to each door and finally found the one with the crying child behind. When she pulled the door open, she found another one, but no child. It was silent now, the crying had stopped. Should she open the other door?

Suddenly she thought there was a knocking. Knock – knock – knock – then there was silence. She felt goose-bumps rise again after the knocking restarted.

With sudden courage she grabbed after the handle and opened the door.

And surprised with a high scream she jumped back, pressing her hands onto her mouth in pure horror. Out of the closet fell a dead body. There was no blood, but with open eyes the man was staring at her. It was Frank, her son.

She would have stayed there forever if she had not heard the noise of splintering glass on the other side of the hallway. Turning around quickly, she saw a figure on a broom with a long red cloak escaping through the now broken window. The curtains on the sides of the window were billowing with the sudden movements and giving free the sight of a woman lying on the floor right underneath the window.

Her familiar looking face was surrounded by beautiful long hair, framing it in.

Augusta knew who the woman was, without looking closer. It was Alice, her daughter-in-law.

She started shaking when she realised Frank and Alice being dead.

But before she lost herself in thoughts she heard a giggling onto her right. Slowly turning toward it, she saw little Neville, about two years old, sitting by the stairs, playing with a bunch of black marbles.

She felt happy to see the child alive. Moving closer to him the marbles suddenly grew little green stems and four little long leafs attached directly on the marble. Now the marbles changed colours, into a deep black-purple. The child still played with them like if they would be marbles, but Augusta knew what they were: It was Belladonna, the deadly nightshade.

"Neville, no, no" shaking her head she walked towards the child, also afraid he could fall down the stairs. The little boy happily held one berry up to her and Augusta stretched her hand out for it, smiling at the child.


	24. Chapter 23

**A/N:**

Dear Readers and Reviewers,

I am so happy by all the reviews you wrote, thank you so much! I'm sorry for the long delay, but real life is catching up on me. I have a tumour in my left leg and was waiting for a surgery appointment. Now, I have one this coming Wednesday. Do not worry, this story will be finished, there are still about six more Chapters to go. It just might to take longer than I thought. Please be patient with me.

I enjoy the ideas and guesses you come up with. Some of you wrote I made you cry, - I'm sorry for that. I must truly say, that some of your reviews make me cry too, and I feel really, really touched. Thank you so much!

"Muchas gracias … Me podrias escribir en ingles la proxima vez por favor? Por desgracia mi espanol no es muy bueno y no lo entiendo todo. Por cierto, estoy buscando un partner."

(No, I don't speak Spanish, or French or... This translation is not mine... But please keep in mind that I would love to understand your reviews too. ;) )

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

A BIG Thank-You to my betas and friends, Breannatala, cara-tanaka, Laurenke1, Suzie74 and Zarathustra46 who are always there with answer's and help me when I'm lost with words – expanding my vocabulary. :) *wave* Any mistakes you find are mine, big, BIG sigh. Don't hesitate to let me know of any, like spelling or grammar… ;) I appreciate and will change it eventually.

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

Remember, there is always light on the end of a tunnel, doesn't matter how long the tunnel seems to be! Always! Vin

PS Something I heard today and want to share: Trust is the greatest sign of love!

_**x.x.x.x.x.x**_

.

.

.

.

**Chapter 23**

.

.

.

.

The Potions Master didn't rest well this night. All he wanted was to be with his little boy, and through the early morning hours he thought he had heard him calling several times. He hadn't wanted to leave the child on the evening before, but when Albus came in around one o'clock in the morning, telling him to go off to bed, he'd take over he didn't want to start a discussion. If the headmaster knew how much the small boy meant to him, he would be too vulnerable. No, he wasn't ready to give himself away. Not yet, anyway and if it would be up to him, then never.

At least now he was free of his promise. He didn't need to keep an eye out for Harry Potter anymore. Harry Potter was safe now; safe with his mother and father… gave a big sigh. He had seen himself as the father of this child and now the little guy was with his real father, happily in heaven, and here he was lonely again, him, the old snarky potions bat of the dungeons.

For the hundred thousandth time in his life, he thought life was not fair.

Why? Why had it to be Harry? "WHY?" He screamed into the darkness and in his rage fisted the pillow next to him. It would have been Harry's… With much more force than it would have been necessary, he threw the pillow out of his bed onto the opposite wall. Then he turned around, burying his face under his own pillow, holding it down onto the back of his head. Maybe death would take him too… but he only felt a sudden wetness in his eyes, as silent despair overwhelming him and he fell into a troubled sleep.

- . -

In the morning, the headmaster was sitting on the guardian chair next to Harry's dead body, when Severus came in to check and see his little son. He needed some time to be alone with Harry.

"Good morning, Severus." The Headmaster said in a surprisingly good mood. "How are you today, my boy?"

But Severus was just growling at the other wizard, while reaching into his pocket and taking out a vile with a very, very dark almost black looking red liquid in it.

Swirling the liquid around once to set the potion in motion, gave the liquid a metallic glitter which made it look poisonous. He dropped the vial into Albus out stretched hand, who kept smiling at him.

"You know, there is hope in this world. You must never give up hope." With these words, the older wizard placed the small vial in his own pocket and got up from the chair. "Excuse me a moment." He left the room without waiting for an answer from the Potions Professor.

Severus first stood there doing nothing.

The room was still fairly dark, the sun did not yet rise. The nine candles around the little boy were still burning and gave the room a cosy impression. Looking finally at Harry, Severus saw that there were many more flowers now than there had been on the previous night. There were flowers for good luck and some healing plants. He was surprised when he saw a bunch of Sky Key's within Harry's flowers. That one made him think. This particular flower was a symbol to be used as a door opener for hidden treasures.

'_Hidden treasures, hmm. I wonder what other flowers he's got,'_ Severus used the time to check a little more closely. He saw a Gypsy Flower, a small twig of Holly, the blue Mermaid's Rose and the Elderberry, a Blood Rose and even a white Water Lily. He had to suppress a smile, when he found a bunch of Daisy's.

He sat himself on the chair that Albus had just abandoned.

"Good morning, Harry." After looking around carefully, he whispered: "Good morning Harry Snape." And he smiled a sad smile at the little boy, caressing his lifeless arm. It was like Harry was twinkling with his eyes at him. And he thought he was hearing the little child's voice whispering "Good morning, Daddy," into the silent darkness of the room.

It started to get lighter outside when Pomona came in to sit with Harry for a while. Severus rose immediately to give over the guardian chair. Smiling at him, Pomona took it and Severus left the little room again.

It was still early, the castle just waking up from a nights sleep. Severus decided to go outside for a bit to clear his mind a little before breakfast. Closing the huge doors behind himself, he felt cold right away. But he wanted to at least breathe some fresh air. He turned to the right to go within the little Garden, but stayed under the roof of the archway.

Freezing, he walked down until the end. Turning left to take the side under the arcades to the little bridge over the canyon, he stopped in his tracks and hid behind one pillar. Albus Dumbledore was standing on the bridge, talking to a man who looked like Alastor Moody. He just handed over the small vial Severus had given him not too long ago. He hoped Moody's magical eye didn't scan him yet when he tried to steal himself away, back the way he came. Being worth the spy he was, he dawdled his way back into the castle.

Nothing happened. He guessed either Dumbledore or Moody hadn't realised him being there. He felt relieved. He didn't want to be a witness to a crime. It was bad enough that he had to brew a poison – Harry would have hated him for doing it… No, he didn't want to think about that at all. Pushing away the thought, he went into the Great Hall for an early breakfast.

No one had told the students of what had happened to Harry Potter yet. Some had the feeling something was off, but the feeling wasn't strong enough.

On one hand Severus was glad that none of the pupils knew – but on the other hand he wished they knew and then would leave him alone. It was always hard for him to teach children which didn't want to learn. He had to have his eyes everywhere at the same time, smelling explosions before they happened to protect them and at the same time he had to make his lesson interesting enough for the students to be occupied and stay away from dangerous pranks.

Sighing, he felt tired, so tired. He just wanted to lay down in his bed and sleep; if possible, forever.

He was looking down at his food and barely eating, his hunger gone. He realised he was done with eating. Grumbling quietly, he got up from his chair and left to go down, back to the dungeons, getting ready to teach for another day.

He automatically went into the direction of 'Harry's room', but stopped in his tracks when he realized someone was in there. He could make out Minerva's voice as he strolled closer to the room.

"Oh, Pomona. Just pull yourself together. You need to eat, you know this. I have a free period this morning, and I'm here to watch the child. Now go, and get some strength into your body. And don't alert the students."

"But, -sniff- Minerva, don't you think it's just so sad? This –sniff- poor little boy, -sniff- I… -sniff- I…"

"Pomona," there was a break and Severus heard some movement in the room. "Here, take this. And stop your crying, for goodness sake. The children do not need to know yet That will just raise panic. Now stop it finally."

The potions master had to suppress a smile. Minerva almost sounded like Albus. Realising he would not be alone with his son he turned and went down towards his classroom to prepare the ingredients he needed for this day.

- . -

None of them saw the almost invisible figure hiding in the shadows. Sir Frederick could not be too far away from Harry, also watching over the dead body. Three day's the human wanted to keep the little body open in this room. The ghost understood the importance of this tradition. But soon, soon the boy would be his.

- . -

In the midmorning Augusta Longbottom came again with Neville in tow, who was dressed all in black and looked like he had been crying for a while. Minerva was glad to see her friend again, but she realised right away that something was off. Augusta refused to sit on Harry's other side, so Minerva moved away from the guardian chair to sit on the stone bench by the little boy's feet and asked the older lady to take a seat next to her. She did, and with a closer look into her face the Transfiguration professor could tell that also Augusta had been crying.

Somehow she couldn't believe that the tears she shed were for Harry.

"Augusta." Very careful she laid her hand on the older witches arm to gain her attention. "Tell me, what is the matter with you?"

"…" With shaking hands Augusta took a small handkerchief out of her bag and dabbed at her eyes. Minerva got worried. It had been a while since she'd seen her friend in this stage. The last time had been when Frank and Alice…

"Augusta!" Minerva looked straight into the other woman's from tears shiny eyes. "Tell me. What happened?" The animagus spoke with a harsh voice, almost as if she knew.

"Frank – Alice… they passed away this morning…" Here the normally so strict woman broke down into sobs and tears. Minerva didn't know what hit her. She never, never had seen her friend this way, not even after her son and daughter-in-law got tortured by Death Eaters and moved into St Mungos.

"Oh Gusty," the Professor used the little girl-form from Augusta's name to calm her down. She embraced her as much as she could and rocked her like a child. "Shhh, let it out. I'll hold you, I'm here; it's all right. Oh my, oh my…"

Augusta was crying desperately in Minerva's arms now. There was no hope; her son, Frank and his beautiful wife, Alice, had died once more and this time for good.

And while Minerva tried to calm down her old friend, Neville tried to make him self real small and not be seen. He placed himself on the edge of the visitor's chair, next to the dead boy he knew was the former Boy-Who-Lived. He felt uncomfortable in these black clothes. The shirt had been too big, and Gran had to make it smaller. But because of her condition, one side was tighter then the other. His trousers had originally fit his uncle and they fit him fine around the waist, but they looked like high-water. Maybe these trousers had been shorts for his uncle?

Sadly, he looked down to the pale yellowish face of Harry. He knew they would have been good friends, if they would have met earlier.

"Will you say hello to my mummy and daddy for me?" Neville whispered into Harry's direction while wringing his hands. "They have left this world, you know – this morning." He looked away, down at his feet, which were clothed in black leather shoes, hiding a sob. "Not that I miss them much – I haven't known them, but they were still my mummy and daddy…" A tear found its way down his cheek. -And another one. And then he was sitting there crying silently. Slowly, he moved forward and laid his head on the soft yellow blanket, next to Harry's arm.

He calmed soon, since he didn't want anybody seeing him this way. He pushed his arms under his chin and looked up at the still form of the other boy.

There were all kinds of weeds and flowers around him. His hands were holding onto each other, but mostly Neville liked the look on the small face. He looked happy, as if he'd died while laughing. Neville could sit here forever and look at Harry. He realised the dead boy was smaller than himself, and suddenly he felt a little protectiveness stir within him. Oh, he wished he'd been there for the little guy, to help him and keeping harm far away from him.

With extreme gentleness, he caressed Harry's hands with his fingers. In his mind he was far away, playing somewhere with Harry, in a mid-world. He almost could hear him laughing, with an angel's voice.

Neville wasn't sure if he'd just imagined it or if he'd heard it in real. When he looked closer to the still form he realised the boy didn't move he was still looking the same on the same place than just minutes ago. But something was different. It took Neville a little while until he suddenly saw the shade of a green glow on the still boy's chest. Curious, Neville reached over to look under the other boy's shirt – only to discover a round, sun shaped amulet on the dead body. The green stone, which was placed in the middle, gave out a mysterious dull glow.

Surprised he let go of Harry and jumped off the chair. "Gran." He didn't take his sight off of the other boy, watching him as if he would expect Harry to open his eyes and get off the table or so. But when he received no answer from his grandmother or the Professor, he slowly turned his gaze to look away from the dead body, towards the grown ups.

They were still sitting on the stone bench; Minerva had her arm around Neville's gran while she was telling something to the transfiguration professor.

"Gran?" Neville called out, but he only got a stern look from Minerva, for interrupting. "But there is something glowing on Harry's chest. It's a green light…"

"Neville," Gran cut in with a soft, weak voice. "Please, not now."

"But -"

"Neville. Please." He was surprised. He'd never before heard his grandmother speak with this whiney voice. His mouth snapped closed.

"Yes."

He felt the voice more than he heard it. "Yes?" he repeated surprised and looked around to see who this voice belonged to.

On the other side of Harry he could see a shiny figure, not taller than himself. Startled, he jumped backwards a little. The ghostly creature held up one hand as to stop Neville from shouting or running, facing him and smiled. "Oh, don't be afraid," his smile grew wider and his ghostly eyes were sparkling. "You have noticed the green light, have you?" The small man pulled his hand back down, nodding to himself. "Yes, you have."

Neville sat on the chair as if made out of stone. He knew what this figure was, a ghost. And the ghost was here with Harry, because it was… It was Harry's personal ghost. It must be, why else was the ghost with Harry? It must be Harry's guardian, like a guardian angel… Neville realised he was still nodding and stopped immediately, watching the ghost.

"Why… why is it…?"

"Glowing?" The ghost ended the unfinished question.

Neville nodded again and stopped abruptly.

The ghost leaned closely to the boy as if he had to hide the secret, which he was going to give on to Neville now.

"That's because Harry is still alive he whispered, Neville had to lean closer so as not to miss a word.

"Alive!" he repeated, surprised, and almost jumped back.

"Shhhh," the ghost held up his hands. "Not so loud. They-" he made a circling gesture with his hand

"-believe he's dead already. But he could be saved."

"Saved?" Neville was shaking his head astonished. "How?"

The ghost picked himself up again to stand straight. "Come with me outside, I'll tell you," he whispered.

"But…" Neville looked into the direction of Gran and Minerva. They were still talking silently, Minerva hugging the older witch closely.

"OK." The small boy got up from the chair and walked out the door silently for not disturbing the two women, followed closely by the ghostly figure.

- . -

Outside Sir Frederick took over the lead into a dark alcove almost across Harry's room, a little to the left. Neville sat himself on the stony corner piece that was built into the wall, looking at the ghost expectant. Leaning closer to him again, the ghost was telling him the story how he had met Harry and through an accident, he died. Almost, anyway. "But you could save him" the ghost finished his story.

"How could I save someone? I'm not a good wizard."

The figure nodded seriously. "But you don't have to be a great wizard for this. There is a flower. If young Harry has one leaf in his mouth, he will come back to life. You just need to get the flower and give it to him."

The young boy looked at the ghost in awe. "I?"

"Yes," the ghost nodded in confidence. "You."

"But how? I'm not a pupil of this school, I don't know my way around, and where would I find this flower? Does it grow in the greenhouses?"

Sir Frederick hat to suppress a laugh. "No. No greenhouse. A teacher found it and took it away. You need to get it back and save Harry's life. But this must stay a secret until you have given him the leaf. Just think you tell everyone and then you can't find the flower. And the teacher who took the flower is bad, he wants Harry dead."

"But then… this is dangerous. What if this professor finds me?"

Tipping his head onto one side, he nodded at Neville. "I don't think he'll discover you, if you are careful. Surely, I could find someone else to help Harry." Stepping out a little of the alcove and looking down the hallway, he added "Just think how proud your grandmother would be if you succeed…"

"All right, I'll do it. Just tell me where I have to go."


	25. Chapter 24

**A/N:**

Dear Readers and Reviewers,

Thank you for your good wishes and blessings. Yes, I already feel much better – what doesn't kill us makes us stronger. :)

Through this story some have asked me questions about the surroundings and sources I used. When this story is done, I will post a Chapter which is called "The Making Of…" - there I will answer all your questions. I promise!

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

A BIG Thank-You to my betas and friends, Breannatala, cara-tanaka, Laurenke1, Suzie74 and Zarathustra46 who are always here with answer's and help me when I'm lost with words – expanding my vocabulary. :) *wave* Any mistakes you find are mine, big, BIG sigh. Don't hesitate to let me know of any, like spelling or grammar… ;) I appreciate and will change it eventually.

And of course the Harry Potter world doesn't belong to me…

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

'Nothing is the way it seems to be.' Vin

_**x.x.x.x.x.x**_

.

.

**Chapter 24 **

.

.

Somewhere, Harry woke up in white fog. His hands were sliding over the hard and stony ground he was lying on, but he could not remember where he was at. The last thing he knew he saw were the onyx eyes of his beloved Dad-man, and the light that had come from somewhere.

"Daddy?" he called, but it sounded hollow and an echo of "Daddy, addy, ddy, dy, y, y" came back to him. He wasn't cold, but he didn't feel hot either.

"Daddy, where are you?" he called, but not so loud this time. He didn't like the echo. He wasn't really scared, but it did give him the creeps. There was nobody around. Carefully he sat up, but the only thing he could see was the thick white mist. Slowly he got up to his feet. He realized in that moment that he wore no shoes. He was in his pyjamas and he still couldn't see anything. The fog felt cool and watery on his skin and the stones where poking in his naked feet.

'_Where should I go?'_ he was wondering. But actually it didn't matter. Every direction looked the same to him and when he would go forward, maybe in real he would go backwards. And when he would go to his right side, maybe he was going to the left instead?

But he needed to move, he couldn't be standing here forever.

So he moved a couple steps forward, his arms stretched out so he wouldn't run into something since it was impossible to see. He stopped, tried to look around and moved a little more, only to stop again.

Suddenly, he thought he'd seen something in front of him through the mist. It looked scary, but it didn't move. Maybe it was a scarecrow or was it someone waiting for him? With a little heartbeat he moved closer, step by step. When he came closer he realized it was a tree. Not a big tree, but bigger than him. Looking around he still saw nothing but thick mist – and the long black naked branches of the tree.

Somehow he felt relieved, he wasn't alone anymore; even a tree was alive.

He stood under the tree, with his back leaning against its trunk, feeling the bark through his pyjama top. When he looked up into the crown, he saw it branching out. Thick leaves were suddenly growing on branches and twigs, right here, before his eyes.

"Hello tree," he whispered, forcing an unsure smile on his face. It wasn't the tree's fault that he felt lonely.

With a little imagination, he could see a sunbeam breaking through the green leaves. He wished for the sun and for warmth. And he felt tears coming up. He wanted to be with his Daddy, he didn't like this cold and uncomfortable place.

Just when the first tear fell down his cheek, he heard the noise of flapping wings. Looking up into the tree again, he saw a big black bird sitting on the lowest branch, looking at him with interest in deep black eyes.

"Hello bird," he said, trying hard not to cry. Brave, he forced the smile back on his face and looked up at the bird. It looked beautiful with black feathers and a dark green shimmer on them. It lay it's head on the side, a gesture that looked so familiar to him. He could have sworn that the bird pulled up an eyebrow too – if the bird would have had one. But just the first gesture was enough. The tears fell freely now and the little boy glided down the tree into a sitting position, embracing his knees with his arms, laying his small head on them and starting to crying.

"So lonely, so lonely, my poor child." It was as if he felt caressing through the mist of tears. Something soft was gently touching him, stroking over his body like a warm summer breeze. A lovely female voice sounding sweetly in his ears. He felt comforted but when he finally picked up his head, he realised once again that he was alone. He still sat on the ground by the tree and there was still the white fog all around him. He had no idea where this voice had come from and when he turned around to look up into the tree, he saw golden-green leaves on the black branches and shades of sunlight.

The black bird was still sitting on the lowest branch. He knew better, but he could have sworn that the bird was smiling at him.

Swallowing, he tried again. "Hello, bird," he said in a hoarse whisper. His throat felt tight from all the crying.

"Good morning, my dear child." He heard the answer, but saw no movement at all. Did the bird speak to him? A talking bird? Where in the world was he? And how did he get here? And where was his Daddy? The last question must have slipped out of him, because he heard the lovely voice again. Someone answered him.

"You came here by yourself. It is very rare that two or more people of one family come at the same time. It happens occasionally, but the last step you have to walk alone. No, don't be afraid. But tell me, who is your Daddy?"

Sadly smiling, Harry told her of the potions master, who had found him in the graveyard and had taken him home to feed and teach him, who had told him stories, who had been with him always and had loved him – him the freak, that nobody had wanted ever before.

"He is a great wizard. He made me green socks –" for a moment he thought he'd cry again, because the socks where in his room at Spinner's End, with his Kneazle. He had to swallow down hard before he could keep on talking. "- and he has given me my Professor, a black cat, no it's a Kneazle. His mommy had given it to him when he was little. And he gave it on to me. I need to go back to him; he is so alone without me, my Daddy and my Kneazle…" he just couldn't help it; the tears just fell down his cheeks.

"What's your name, darling?" he heard the warm voice ask.

"Harry," he sniffed. "It's Harry Potter. But my Daddy calls me 'Little One.'" Looking up to where the voice came from, he saw the bird sitting. Here he was, speaking to a bird!

"'Little One'…" The voice repeated in a whisper.

After a short silence, where Harry was still thinking of his Daddy, the bird asked: "What's your Daddy's name?"

"Severus…" He suddenly realized that he had no clue to what his Daddy's last name was. He knew how his Daddy looked like, and his house, he knew all kinds of stories about him, but if he would ever get lost, he didn't have enough information to return home, onto his Daddy's lap. He felt despair rise. Was that the reason why he was here, because he got lost?

"And your mother…?" The warm voice interrupted his thoughts.

"My Mommy and Papa died when I was little," he told the bird, no longer thinking of Severus, but of the mean stories uncle Vernon and aunt Petunia had told him. "They got killed in a… in a car crash. Because my Papa was… was… was a… a drunk," he ended in a hoarse whisper.

Now he had the feeling the bird was laughing at him. Confused he looked up to the branch on where the bird was sitting. But the beak was still closed; the only thing that changed were the eyes. They were twinkling madly.

"Darling," she said. Then she spread her wings and with a surprise silent movement landed on his shoulder.

"Are you a raven?" Harry wanted to know. He didn't want to think of his Mommy or his Papa or his Daddy – it hurt too much.

"Yes, I am." He still had the impression as if she would smile. "Follow me, Little one." And with that, she leapt off his shoulder into the air, circling him one time and flew into the white fog onto his left.

First he was too surprised to move – she had called him 'Little One' – just like his Daddy…

"Wait!" he called after her, turning and just be swallowed by the thick mist. He heard her wings flapping over his head and followed the sound step by step.

- . -

Suddenly, he couldn't hear the sound anymore. Immediately he stopped walking, to call after the raven. But this time he didn't even hear an echo, the place around him was silent. It felt like a repeat of when he woke up in this place earlier.

"Raven?" he tried again, in a different direction. He wanted to be brave and not letting the headless despair rise and take over. "Where are you?" There, still in control.

He stepped a little bit to his right, and he felt an odd tingling through his body as if he touched something soft. But not in touching something with his hand; it felt like he got stopped from a cloth, like a curtain, coming from the top somewhere, holding him back from something. It felt familiar. He stood there, silently, listening into the mist around him.

Then he remembered the feeling. It had felt like this when he was with his Severus in Spinner's End. Everytime, he went out of the house and on the street it had felt similar to this sensation.

This funny curtain must be a border. _'What did my Daddy call this? A ward? Am I supposed to walk through?'_

Gathering his courage, he stepped one step forward – and another one, feeling the fog around himself like cotton. As if he got held back – it felt like being hugged without wanting to be embraced –

And with force he freed himself from this cotton wall to step into bright sunlight.

Soft green grasses were tickling his feet and legs, and colourful flowers bloomed everywhere. The landscape around him was filled with smooth hills, a summer blue sky, green fields with flowers, some trees, rocks in the middle of the lawn and the singing of birds. Further down the hill he was sure he saw some deer, moving slowly with heads on the ground while eating towards some trees. A humming bumble bee passed him and disappeared into the head of a pink flower. It moved back and forth, as if it wasn't sure if it could keep up with the weight of the insect. Harry had to giggle. It looked just too funny. He was sure the bumble bee was looking at him maybe even shaking its tiny head when it left the flower to move on to the next. _'If the bumble bee would have an eyebrow, would it raise it when it looks at me?'_ Just the thought made him laugh.

He followed the yellow-black insect with his eyes until he couldn't see it anymore. Still grinning he looked close around, only to realize that there was a rock behind him. _'Now, how can that happen? I came from a wall out of fog. That's odd. Maybe when I touch -' _he turned around to touch the rock carefully as if expecting his hand to slip right through – but the wall stayed solid. The warm grey stone felt comfortable under his small hands.

A movement on his left side made him look up, but when he searched the stone, he only could see a small brown salamander with a green stripe in the middle, looking for a good place in the warm sun.

'_Strange.'_ Shaking his head in wonder he walked a little down the hill. He had no idea where he should go. To his own surprise he felt no hunger or thirst. He was not either hot or cold, nor did he miss anything – beside his Daddy of course or the raven.

But the warmth of the summer sun made him sleepy, and when he came to the next group of small trees, he curled himself under them, in between roots, to take a nap.

- . -

Harry knew he was dreaming, as he saw pictures in his head as reading a book.

He saw how his Daddy laid him on a table, which was covered with a fluffy, soft sunny-yellow blanket. He could see the candles all around himself. What was odd, was that he could see himself as two. He could see himself as Harry on the table, but he also could see himself as someone who was watching everything.

When he saw how gentle the potions master had laid his body on the blanket, he felt his tears rise. Oh how he missed his Daddy. He wanted him to be here with him, or he Harry, be with Severus now.

"Daddy, oh my Daddy," he sobbed.

He couldn't look at all these nice flowers; he only had his eyes on his Severus, his Dad-man.

Severus looked pale and sad while sitting on a stone bench on the wall by Harry's feet, under the window. If he would lean forward and stretch his hand out, he could touch the small feet. His eyes looked dull as if he were in great pain. Harry wanted to climb on his lap and hug him close to himself – care for his Daddy.

He saw Madame Hooch briefly but heard her saying quietly: "Elderberry. It's not a good flying wood, but it is the door from the living to the dead. It will protect the little guy and heal whatever needs healing... it's the door from the living to the dead… it's the door from the living to the dead… it's the door from the living to the dead…"

Suddenly he saw Severus trembling and hurriedly leave the room. Did he just see a tear rolling down his Daddy's cheek? Was his Daddy crying?

The next thing he heared was the Medi-witch talking to an old man. Harry couldn't picture who it was, but the grandfather type of person looked familiar.

"He got poisoned. He was already sick when Severus found him. It must have been a slow working poison…" A poison? How would he get access to a poison? That's silly. Harry felt almost like laughing. How would she get on that idea?

He almost missed her next words. "…have no idea what those muggles all did to him. What I could fix, I fixed." Yeah, she did. He touched his eyes, smiling. "They had tortured the little boy, Albus. If he didn't die from a poison, he would have died by their treatment. How could you have left him there? He was so sweet…" Oh, this man was the one, who had left him there, at the Dursley's? He then realized Poppy was crying too, and he also saw the unbelievable look in the old wizards face. _'Idiot.'_ Harry thought pretty passionately and felt a despairing giggle rise.

Oh, he wanted his daddy close to him; feel his embrace and his voice, calling him sweetly 'Little One'… "Daddy –" Everything went black around him, but he didn't feel fear. He felt the warmth of love his Daddy and the medi-witch had had for him.

But why couldn't his Daddy be with him?

"Where are you, Daddy?"

Even if he did not see Severus, he could feel his despair.

"Daddy?" But he got no answer.

"Daddy?" he tried again, a little louder.

And wrapped in all this love, he finally screamed: "Daddy?"

- . -

As if turning a page, Harry saw his Daddy while he was outside looking at the lake. He was leaning on a tree, his arms around his body, his elbow supported by one hand, resting his chin in his other hand.

It had snowed and the white landscape reminded them of a fairy tale. If one didn't know the area, one had to guess what was placed under the hills of snow. Harry felt amazed with it. He saw the old man - Albus? - walking toward his Daddy.

Harry could see that Severus was far away with his thoughts, being occupied somewhere else. Did he not feel the cold? The little boy only had eyes for his Daddy and missed completely that the old wizard was talking to Severus.

"Yes?" He heard Severus answer and came back into the picture.

"I was looking for you." _'Urgh,'_ he thought and grinned. He tried to stretch the arm out, to touch his Daddy, but his hand went right through as if the picture in front of him wasn't real. Sadly, he pulled his hand back and before he would cry he followed the speaking again.

"Severus, I need you to brew a special potion for me," the old wizard just said.

'_What's a _special_ potion?'_ Harry was wondering why there was such an odd pronouncing on the word _special. _

"What potion do you have in mind?

"For the greater good there are some who we need to help move on to the next great adventure silently and undetected."

'_Move on to where?_' But before Harry could feel too confused, he heard his Daddy give a joyless chuckle:"A poison then. Who are you planning to kill?"

'_Kill? Kill – by meaning dead?'_ The child tried to understand. Somebody was supposed to die…

"I'm sorry, but I don't think that is something I can tell you." Harry felt a shiver running down his spine.

"Albus -"

Oh, yeah, right, so Albus was his name…

"My boy, the times are getting harder. We need to be ready, even if it looks sunny outside now. But dark times will come and we must be prepared. The war will not wait on us to have the right weapons… you know that, don't you?"

'_A war? There was a war going on? Is that why he died?'_ Harry still felt confused, even more now than before. He saw his Daddy turning back to look at the lake once more and he could also see the way he was standing looking strained.

"Severus? Where are you…?"

"I have a potion to brew," the potions master answered the unfinished question and without a look back moved towards the castle, leaving Harry looking behind.

- . -

A little boy, as little as he was himself, was sneaking up to the open door and looked inside, towards him.

With a surprised look the strange boy looked at the flowers which were on dead Harry's sides, weird ones, in all colours.

Poppy sat by his side, to guard his little soul, and Harry felt very thankful towards her. The other wizard, Harry didn't know. He looked nice though, and funny. He must have been smaller than he was himself. How could such an old man be smaller than an eight-year old child?

Harry felt the giggle rise again in his throat.

But who was that boy?

Was the boy waiting for someone?

Harry watched him closer. He had dark hair and brown eyes. He must be his age as he was about his size too. He followed the other boy as he moved back into the hallway. Watching him, he also felt very surprised, when their eyes fell on a cat that suddenly appeared around the corner.

"Oh," the strange boy said, "Hello Kitty, or are you a Kneazle?"

'_A Kneazle – like my Professor…?'_

The cat just stood there as if it would be frozen. Both boy's were watching it as close as the cat was watching the other boy. Neither moving a bit. Would the cat be aware of him, Harry?

Then, suddenly the cat went with a long "Miouuu" in Harry's direction and jumped around the corner, back from where it came from.

Even before the other boy could turn to the painting, they heard voices and two women came down the stairs. Both ladies were giving the strange boy a so irresolute smile that Harry had to laugh.

Saying good-bye right there, one of the women went toward Harry's room. The other one laid her hand on the boys shoulder and walked him out the entrance door.

Harry smiled. He liked the other boy.

- . -

On the next morning, the headmaster was sitting on the guardian chair next to Harry's dead body, when Severus came in. Harry had sat on the stone bench, watching Albus sleep in the guardian chair. Just before his Daddy came in, Albus had awakened.

"Good morning, Severus." The Headmaster said. "How are you today, my boy?"

Harry thought that was funny. '_Why does Albus call my Daddy 'my boy'? Is he my grandfather? But why doesn't Daddy call him Dad or so?' _

But his Daddy was just growling at the other wizard, while reaching into his pocket and taking out a vile with a very, very dark almost black looking red liquid in it. Swirling the liquid around once to set the potion in motion, giving the liquid a metallic glitter which made it look poisonous. He dropped the vial into Albus outstretched hand, who kept smiling at him.

'_Wow, what an odd colour…'_

"You know, there is hope in this world. You must never give up hope." With these words, the older wizard placed the small vial in his own pocket and got up from the chair. "Excuse me a moment." He left the room without waiting for an answer from the Potions Professor.

Severus first stood there doing nothing. Harry was glad, that the old man had left. Finally, after waiting so long, he was alone with his Daddy. He wished he could just cuddle up with him…

The room was still fairly dark; the sun had not yet risen. The nine candles around dead Harry were still burning and gave the room a cosy impression. Looking finally at the body on the table, Severus was looking at the flowers. There were many more flowers now than there had been on the previous night.

'_Are those flowers special, Daddy?' _

Severus used the time to check them a little more closely.

'_They must be. Can you get me back home to you, Daddy?_'

Severus sat himself on the chair that Albus had just abandoned.

"Good morning, Harry."

Standing up from the bench, the little boy walked over to stand next to his Daddy and his body.

After looking around carefully, his Daddy whispered: "Good morning Harry Snape." And he smiled a sad smile at the little boy in front of him, caressing his lifeless arm.

Harry's face lit up with a smile. Harry Snape – he was his Daddy's son!

Complete happy, he replied: _'Good Morning, Daddy.'_

He wanted to lean on his Daddy, hug him – but he knew he would fall through. So he was just standing next to him, admiring his closeness, without him knowing he was there.

It started to get lighter outside when a woman came in. Severus rose immediately to give over the guardian chair.

'_No, don't leave yet. It's too soon… Please stay with me. Daddy…'_

Smiling at his Daddy, the other teacher took the chair and Severus left the little room.

- . -

Sitting on the stone bench again, he looked up when he saw the almost invisible figure hiding in the shadows.

'_Oh, there is Sir Frederick. How nice of him to come and see me. I wonder if he can see __me__.'_ But when he stood and moved closer to the ghost, he realized that even Sir Frederick could nor feel or see him.

Before he could be sad about that he got distracted by seeing the other boy again, that he had seen the day before. He came into his room, together with the professor and the older lady. The women sat down and were talking silently, while Harry watched the other boy.

He placed himself on the edge of the visitor's chair, next to Harry's dead body. The brown haired boy looked uncomfortable in these black clothes he was wearing.

The boy seemed sad and Harry wished he could do something to cheer the strange boy up. He knew they would have been good friends, if they had met earlier.

"Will you say hello to my mummy and daddy for me?" the boy whispered into Harry's direction while wringing his hands.

'_Why? Can't you do that yourself?'_ Harry felt taken aback. Why would this strange boy ask something like that of him?

"They have left this world, you know – this morning." The boy looked away, down at his feet, which were clothed in black leather shoes, hiding a sob.

'_Oh…'_

"Not that I miss them much – I haven't known them, but they were still my mummy and daddy…" A tear found its way down his cheek. And another one. And then he was sitting there crying silently. Slowly, he moved forward and laid his head on the soft yellow blanket, next to Harry's arm.

'_I'm sorry, little boy, I'm sorry.'_ Harry also felt tears tickle in his eyes. Oh, how he just wished he could hold this boy, be there for him, be his friend.

The strange boy calmed soon, pushing his arms under his chin and looked up at the still form of the dead boy.

Harry also calmed down, feeling suddenly so close to this boy. He felt an odd pull in his heart, as the living boy was staring into the dead face. Harry moved closer, on the other side across from the boy and leaned over his dead body and look into the boy's face, to be real close to him. With extreme gentleness, the strange boy caressed dead Harry's hands with his fingers. He looked as if he'd be far away.

'_Are you with me? Are we playing catch? Will we sit in the green room and play, like my mommy and daddy did when they were little? Are we watching the purple martin fly? Will we race boats in the stream?'_ Just the thought of sharing this all with this little boy made him laugh happily.

Suddenly, he felt like as if the boy was here with him, where he was. It was just a second, like a flash, he saw the other boy looking at him. At him, not dead Harry, _him_.

He could see the boy leaning in, closer to the still form.

'_Here, I'm here!'_ But the boy didn't look again.

Instead, the other boy was looking at his chest. _'Why is he staring at my chest?' _Harry wondered.

When the boy reached over to look under dead Harry's shirt they both discover a round, sun shaped amulet on the dead body. The green stone, which was placed in the middle, gave out a mysterious dull green glow.

'_My Daddy's amulet – it's glowing.'_ Surprised, Harry looked down on himself, only to discover that the stone was glowing too. But it didn't give him a bad feeling. Actually it was more the opposite. He felt safe.

The other boy let go of Harry and jumped off the chair. "Gran." He didn't take his sight off of the dead boy. But when he received no answer from his grandmother or the Professor, he slowly turned his gaze to look away from the dead body, towards the grown ups.

They were still sitting on the stone bench; Minerva had her arm around the older lady while they were talking.

"Gran?" Neville called out, but he only got a stern look from Minerva, for interrupting. "But there is something glowing on Harry's chest. It's a green light…"

'_My amulet is glowing…'_

"Neville," the lady named Gran interrupted. "Please, not now."

"But -"

'_Hello, my amulet is glowing, what does that mean?'_

"Neville. Please." Gran spoke with a whiney voice. The other boy's mouth snapped closed.

'_Neville. Nice to meet you.'_

"Yes." Sir Frederick! Yes, he would know what it means, wouldn't he? Where did he come from? Sir Frederick was so close to Harry, he could almost touch him. But Sir Frederick did not see him.

"Yes?" Neville repeated with a surprised voice and looked around as to see where this voice had come from.

Neville jumped backwards a little, the ghost must have scared him. The ghostly creature held up one hand as to stop Neville from shouting or running, facing him and smiled. "Oh, don't be afraid," his smile grew wider and his ghostly eyes were sparkling. "You have noticed the green light, have you?" The small man pulled his hand back down, nodding to himself. "Yes, you have."

Nodding, Harry replied to the question. _'Yes, I have. And it feels good.'_

"Why… why is it…?"

"Glowing?" The ghost ended the unfinished question.

'Yeah, why is it?'

Neville nodded again and stopped abruptly. The ghost leaned closely to the boy as if he had to hide the secret, which he was going to give on to Neville now. Harry drew closer to hear it too.

"That's because Harry is still alive," he whispered, Neville had to lean closer so as not to miss a word.

'_I am?'_ Harry felt stunned.

"Alive!" Neville repeated, hearing his surprise in his voice.

"Shhhh," the ghost held up his hands. "Not so loud. They-" he made a circling gesture with his hand

"-believe he's dead already. But he could be saved."

Harry leaned closer – _'Saved – I could come back?'_

"Saved?" Neville was shaking his head. "How?"

The ghost picked himself up again to stand straight. "Come with me outside, I'll tell you," he whispered.

'_Outside? How far outside are you talking? I don't know if I can leave my room very far…'_ Harry started to feel uncomfortable for some strange reason.

"But…" Neville looked into the direction of the two women. But he didn't need to worry. The older lady's were still talking silently, not paying any attention to the little boy.

"OK." The small boy got up from the chair and walked out the door silently for not disturbing the two women, followed closely by the ghostly figure.

'_No,'_ but Harry had the strong urge to follow too.

- . -

Outside Sir Frederick took over the lead into a dark alcove almost across Harry's room, a little to the left.

Harry was relieved that it wasn't too far away.

Neville sat himself on the stony corner piece that was built into the wall, looking at the ghost expectant, while Harry was leaning on the wall next to Neville, crossing his arms.

Leaning closer to Neville again, the ghost was telling him the story how he had met Harry and through an accident, he died. Almost, anyway. "But you could save him," the ghost finished his story.

'_An accident? I died from an accident? What accident? I don't remember having one.'_ Harry felt confused. Something here was not right.

"How could I save someone? I'm not a good wizard." Neville sounded as getting depressed. Harry could understand him very well.

Sir Frederick nodded seriously. "But you don't have to be a great wizard for this. There is a flower. If young Harry has one leaf in his mouth, he will come back to life. You just need to get the flower and give it to him."

'_Really? But I thought – my Daddy has the flower.'_

The other boy looked at the ghost in awe. "I?"

"Yes," the ghost nodded in confidence. "You."

Harry was watching them.

"But how? I'm not a pupil of this school, I don't know my way around, and where would I find this flower? Does it grow in the greenhouses?"

Sir Frederick hat to suppress a laugh. "No. No greenhouse. A teacher found it and took it away. You need to get it back and save Harry's life. But this must stay a secret until you have given him the leaf. Just think, you tell everyone and then you can't find the flower. And the professor who took the flower is bad, he wants Harry dead."

That scared Harry. Who wanted him dead? _'But my Daddy has the flower… and he didn't find it – I told him where it was…'_

"But then… this is dangerous. What if this professor finds me?"

'_What professor? Daddy? My Daddy?'_

Tipping his head onto one side, the ghost nodded at Neville. "I don't think he'll discover you, if you are careful. Surely, I could find someone else to help Harry." Stepping out a little of the alcove and looking down the hallway, he added, "Just think how proud your grandmother would be if you succeed…"

"All right, I'll do it. Just tell me where I have to go."

Something was wrong here. Harry could feel it now. Sir Frederick had said his Daddy would want him dead – but that wasn't true, he knew that. His Daddy loved him, he wanted Harry back. Sir Frederick was mistaken. He was… he was… was lieing to Neville.

Tears were spilling down his cheeks now. With a shocked cry he woke up, stumbling onto his feet in between the many roots of the group of trees in the middle of the green fields where he had been napping. The landscape around him was filled with smooth hills, a summer blue sky, and green fields with flowers blooming everywhere, some trees, rocks in the middle of the lawn and the singing of birds. Further down the hill he was sure he saw some deer, moving slowly with heads on the ground while eating, towards some trees on this beautiful warm summer day.

Hasn't he seen this just before he had fallen asleep?

Looking up, he was staring into small, star shaped, white blossoms of the Elderberry trees around him.


	26. Chapter 25

**A/N:**

Dear Readers and Reviewers,

I am so happy by all the reviews you wrote, thank you so much!

I'm sorry for the long delay, I have found out that two slipped disc's were causing me the pain for the last 7 ½ month – and with pain it's hard to concentrate long. I was in the hospital since the last Update and now. This Chapter will be the last for about 6 weeks since I'm going to a rehabilitation therapy.

But do not worry, the evenings are long in a hospital… and I will be able to write a chapter or two – to bring back with me. Please be patient with me.

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

Important: This chapter did NOT get betad!

I wanted to "give" it to you before I leave and didn't have the time to send it off.

Don't hesitate to let me know of any mistakes, like spelling or grammar (I'm sure you'll find a lot!) … ;) I appreciate and will change it eventually. (If it's too bad, I will repost it!)

((Music I listened to while writing: Sweet Child O' Mine played by Scott D. Davis))

.**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

"Skill can be learned. Art comes from the heart." Heard from a very special friend of mine. Vin

_**x.x.x.x.x.x**_

.

.

**Chapter 25**

.

.

_Elderberry? The door from the living to the dead…_ it was as if he heard Madame Hooch's voice again, but she wasn't here. It was just him. Thinking, he carefully sat down again, his arm around his knees and his head on his arms, wiping the tears off.

_When the Elderberry is the door from the living to the dead, then it must also be possible to go from death to life – am I'm dead? Is this the after world? Dudly's Nirvana?_

He was looking around a little closer. It was a beautiful landscape. Smooth green hills with trees and woods stretched out before him until the eye hit the blue sky on the horizon. On the grass around him were flowers blooming with bees and butterflies all around them. They seemed to be completely happy. There were some big rocks in the middle of the lawn and he heard the singing of birds. When he looked down the hill he could see the deer, moving slowly with heads on the ground while eating, towards some trees on this beautiful warm summer day.

He started to wonder how long he had slept. He knew he saw the deer in the same position before he fell asleep… but before he could think more about it, the noticed a movement next to him – the raven.

Smiling, he welcomed her back.

"You found a very nice place," it was as if she would smile at him.

"Yes," the small boy looked up into the white blooms, and the sun that twinkled at him through the branches of the Elderberry trees. He leaned closer to a stem and relaxed. "Where have you been?"

"Harry," her tone of voice was serious while she hopped a few feet away from him. "Don't be afraid."

Surprised he pulled his head up and looked at her. "Why would I be –?"

Right here, in front of his eyes, he saw the raven changing. There where a bird was before, suddenly a woman was sitting, her long dark brown hair tied back in a braid with a dark green velvet ribbon, hanging down her back. Shiny intelligent black eyes were intensely looking at him, missing not a single change or move. They looked so familiar…

Not even realising that he had opened his mouth, he closed it but opened it again. "Who… who are you?" he croaked out. Coughing he tried again with a little steadier voice. "Who are you?"

"Hello Harry," she sounded nice, just like … the raven! He didn't realise he had said that out loud, but the woman was laughing. He felt like laughing along too, but instead he was just giggling, feeling his ears heat up. But before this moment could be too embarrassing, she held out her hand for him to shake. "Just call me … Eileen." Gladly he did.

She turned towards him. "Did you sleep?"

He nodded. "Yeah I did," And quieter he added: "I was dreaming of my Daddy." _I wish I would have never woken…_

"Your Daddy… Severus?" She moved closer to him and when she turned her head to look at him the light of the sun was reflecting from her hair. She reminded Harry of a queen who was wearing a golden crown with diamonds in it. Didn't his Dad-man tell him a story of him being a king and his Daddy a knight? It seemed so long ago…

"Yes," he mumbled absently. "My Daddy Severus." With a sudden thought coming to life in his head he watched her move.

"Can …uh, may I ask you something?"

"Sure, what is it you want to know?" She asked with a smile.

"Can you bring me back to my Daddy? I want to go home… please?" He looked eager, as if he would just jump up and 'puff' be home.

Her face took a thoughtful look. Her right index finger went up on top of her nose, the thumb under her chin. "Well, I don't know. I might…"

_Could she do that? Maybe I'm not dead after all – but how come I could see my Daddy and myself without anybody see me? Am I a ghost? Was I dreaming? And what about Sir Frederick and Neville…_ "Neville!" Harry shouted out.

Eileen almost jumped. "Neville? Who is Neville?"

"He is going to harm my Daddy! Sir Frederick lied to Neville, he said my Daddy wants me dead, but my Daddy loves me, he wants me home, he needs me, and my Professor – they are lonely without me and I love them, I need to go back and protect my Daddy from Neville…"

The little boy had moved forwards, his small hands grabbing her arms tightly, ranting. "Please, you've got to help me!"

An amusing smile was on her face while she was watching him.

"Please." He looked right into her eyes – he could have sworn that her warm black eyes were laughing at him.

Very gently she laid her arm around him in a warm embrace. Softly she caressed his hair, her eyes seeming to touch everywhere inside of him. Her breath feeling like a blanket, wrapping him in. "Sleep," she whispered to him and in his ears it sounded like a lullaby, softly moving him to sleep.

- . -

Neville was standing outside the potion's classroom. The black-clothed professor had just left the classroom, passing him, to go to the Great Hall for lunch. Hidden in a dark corner, pressed almost into the wall, Neville seemed to have stopped breathing. He did not get discovered and now gladly released the air he was holding.

Looking behind the man, who was drawn into his own thoughts, he also did not notice the small ghostly shadow, which was watching him closely.

Neville walked quietly to the classroom door and just hoped it would be unlocked. He was lucky, the door opened without a noise and he stole himself into the room, followed by the ghostly creature and closing the door behind him.

He had not expected to see what he saw when he turned around to face the potions classroom. He had to steel his nerves to not scream, turn and run away.

All kinds of eyes were looking at him from jars, in a cabinet across from the door. Other shelves held jar's with colourful fluids, odd looking roots or weeds, Frogs and other amphibian floating in yellow or green water, dragon teeth were collected within a red glass jar. Looking a little closer, Neville thought he could see a human hand and foot in yellow and blue liquid. There were also many chopped, diced and powdered contains in containers.

By the sink sat at least twenty dirty cauldrons, with an odd substance in it that switched colour constantly from a poisonous looking pink to a dark grey and back to pink. Neville did not feel comfortable at all in this classroom.

Harry was watching Neville closely. When he saw how pale the other boy got, he looked around the room they were in. _Gross,_ he thought and shuddered. _But interesting; I wonder what he needs the eyes for. And why are there so many different ones? Does he have daisies here too?_

Neville knew he was looking for a red flower, possibly hidden in a leather pouch. He started looking through the room, trying not to get too close at the jars and their contents.

But he couldn't find a pouch or a glint of a flower in one piece. _Maybe he chopped it up?_ Neville was wondering to himself. There were plenty of dried ingredients that could have been a flower at one time.

Feeling a little lost, he moved to the desk and pulled the top drawer open to look inside. But he only could find a black inkwell, an eagle feather quill, some parchment, a ruler, a muggle pencil and some white chalk.

Harry just stood there watching Neville's tries with waking curiosity.

The next drawer was locked. Oh, how Neville wished he could do magic! Feeling despair rise, thinking of Harry whose life he could save, he felt an uncontrolled heat on his hands and suddenly smoke rise from the wooden drawer.

Harry drew closer. _Smoke? How did he do that?_

In the front, where the lock would have been was now a small hand sized hole. Stunned both boys were looking at the hole. How did that happen? Surprised the other boy looked at his hand, followed by another set of eyes, which looked perfectly normal to him. Putting it aside with a shrug of his shoulders and with an unsure smirk, he pulled the rest of the drawer open – only to realize that in the inside were some spare quill feathers and a red inkwell.

_Wow – Neville must be a really strong Wizard. I wish I would be this strong to. I would make myself alive again…_

Disappointed, Neville let go of the wood, not even bothering of closing the drawer. Looking around, he was wondering where else he could look and discovered a door that he hadn't seen before. Although it looked like a closet door just, and made of plain wood, it had no handle.

It took awhile for Harry to follow Neville; he was so much pulled in his thoughts.

Neville stepped closer and laid his ear on it as if to listen if something was moving inside. But all was silent. _It's a magical door_, he thought and he knocked slowly.

Harry stepped next to the boy and laid his hand on the hard surface. He could feel a familiar tingling rising through his body. The tingling stayed, as if he was standing in a soft breeze outside on a summer day. He knew what this was by now. _The ward…_ He almost expected to come home, to Spinner's End, when he pulled to open the door.

"Please," Neville whispered to the door, "open."

He was shocked when it was swinging toward him.

"Neat, thank you." he said politely to the door.

Harry was giggling. Did Neville think the door was alive?

Stepping through, they found themselves being in a small oval shaped room. The walls were massive uneven stone and the ceiling very high up, giving a blue light. In the middle, stood a long table covered with a weird shaped tablecloth. It almost looked like if there was a human body under it. But, no, that couldn't be, could it?

Out of one shelf they heard a slurping noise. Curious Neville looked behind the small cloth curtain, Harry looking right over his left shoulder – and both boy's were freezing with disgust. Thousands of big, fat, white maggots were squirming in a glass container. Behind that one was another one with long brown maggots.

"Urgh." Neville dropped the cloth in revulsion and turned to a different shelf, while Harry stepped back. _Yuck, what does Daddy need them for?_

A jar which contained long sticks of something looking like skin drew Neville's attention in for awhile, until he found a brown crumbled up paper, saying 'dried house-elf ears' on it. Shuddering he turned away. Why would the potions master need house-elf parts?

Harry wasn't sure if he really wanted to investigate what was in those shelfs. What if there was something real, real disgusting… he didn't mind seeing the maggots. While he had been at Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, there had been a lot ugly things he had seen, and touched. One time, he must have been six or seven, while cleaning the yard, he had found a young cat a car had run over. It must have already lied there for a while, because there were all kinds of worms squirming and crawling around and in it. He had felt so sorry for the poor creature; he had buried the cat on the very far end of the yard, by the hedge. It had looked like if Harry had cleaned out the moss and weeds and Uncle Vernon did not find it. He was so much tied up in thought, he totally forgot where he was and why.

Suddenly, Neville's hand touched something soft. He stretched his fingers, feeling for it. Actually it felt ok. He followed his hand with his eyes. He had found a glass full of pearls in all rainbow colours. Looking down, he touched them more, fingers playing with them and started to wonder why they were slimy. Horrified he realized they were not pearls. Pulling the hand out, he looked for a sign of what it could be – and felt even too terrified to scream when he found it: Polished Rat Eyes.

With a strained moan he tried to hold the hand that had touched the eyes far away from himself and the other hand to cover his mouth to suppress any more noise. Stepping backwards, he tripped over the cloth that was lying on the table and pulled that one along a bit.

Harry got thrown out of his thoughts by Neville's moan and giggled nervously. The other boy's hand was coated with an odd looking yellowish slime.

Both boys turned their heads; they could see the person, which was lying on the table. It was a beautiful face, surrounded by long, blond, curly hair. Neville recognized the kind of person right away, since it was a magical creature. It was one of the merpeople that lived down at the Hogwarts Lake.

Harry didn't know what kind of person this was. He had never seen such a beautiful creature before. His eyes went up and down the man's body. When he saw that the man had scales he wondered if he was a merman. But that couldn't be real. Merpeople don't exist, do they? _Uncle Vernon had said that magic creatures like unicorns and mermaids don't exist. But he also said that magic and wizards weren't real…_

The other boy let out a sad sigh and touched the blue-green scales on the man's hip.

"He killed you too, huh?," he whispered to the dead body. He felt sorrow for this man, being hidden in a potion's storage room. And poor Harry, upstairs, fighting for his life…

There his hand froze. His whole body felt paralyzed. His eyes opened wide – the merman was staring at him with also wide open blue eyes.

Harry was freezing too.

This time, Neville couldn't stop it – he screamed.

Harry didn't understand what was happening. Why did the other boy act so strange? He scared him. What's going on? "Neville! What…" he felt panic rise and moved forwards toward another door he just realized was there, closer to them than the other door they had come through before.

Tumbling backwards, Neville knocked down a glass of something looked like tails, still moving.

Harry hurried and pushed his hands against the door, tears falling from his eyes. "Daddy, Daddy, where are you? Daddy, we want out of here, Daddy, help…"

Neville felt a hard surface behind himself, but he just wanted to get away and fell through, falling into a dark hole, still screaming.

- . -

Professor Severus Snape sat stiff and frozen in his chair at the teachers table in the Great Hall, looking into the shocked faces of the young students. The headmaster had just told the pupils about the Boy-Who-Died and dismissing the children a week earlier into their Christmas holiday.

Under normal circumstances the students would have been happy to get off a week earlier. But now they were shocked. Silent the children looked up at the headmaster, who just made up some kind of weird story how the Boy-Who-Lived had died in the first place.

"… and then they crashed into the ocean. Just fell down from the sky. I'm sure some of you know how dangerous those aeroplanes are. They were dead immediately, don't worry, he didn't feel any pain. Of course you and your families are welcome to the coming out par… eh, the burial. It will be held the day after tomorrow in Godric's Hollow." He clapped his hands for the attention he already got and continued: "Now, please pack your things quietly, the train is leaving tomorrow morning…" The Potion's Professor did not listen anymore. He listened to a voice calling him again instead. He heard it, deep inside of him.

"Daddy, help…"

Drawing back into his mind, he answered Harry's call calmly. _'Yes my Darling, I'm here, Daddy is here.'_ Oh, how he just missed his Harry, if there was just a way to hold him in his arms again!

When lunch was over he went, deep in thought, towards his dungeon office to finish correcting the second year potion essays. Even if the students got send home earlier, he didn't want to spend all holiday with marking. When he was walking pass Harry's room, he ran across a nervous looking Minerva. "Excuse me, Severus," looking around to all sides, she continued: "I'm looking for Neville. Somehow he'd disappeared. I was wondering if you'd seen him?"

He shook his head in delay. "I'm sorry Minerva; did you check in the Great Hall? Maybe he had some lunch."

"No. No, Severus, he was here just a while ago and I was speaking to Augusta – and suddenly he was gone." Turning away, she suppressed a sob. "Maybe he went this way…" Walking away from him, he just followed her with his eyes, and then turned around to continue his way into his office. Soon he had all forgotten about the missing child.

In his office he sat down by his desk and started marking.

- . -

Finally, he laid the last essay on the finished pile. Stretching his stiff shoulders and back, he went to take a look at his potions storage in the classroom. If there was too much missing, he had to send the order out soon, to replace the stock on time.

'_I could order some more ferret kidney's, carline thistles hair, silverfish hearts and a couple grams of spider legs…'_ he thought while looking at a couple of jars in a cabinet across from the door and turned to his desk to get parchment and quill. Just a few steps away, he realised the burned hole in the bottom drawer of his desk. Surprised he stopped in his tracks.

A prank. Some student must have been in here, while he had been at lunch. Thank Merlin, there wasn't anything value in this particular drawer. Checking, he opened the drawer carefully, but he only could find what he had left in there: his spare quill feathers and a red inkwell. Nothing seemed to be removed.

Closing the bottom and opening the top drawer let him be suspicious. The prankster had searched for something special. The spy in him came to life. Thinking deeply, he let himself fall into the next chair. What would someone look for? What would he have, that someone wanted? And most important, who would want something from him?

With somebody else's eyes, he went looking through his potion classroom. He saw the jar with the Newt eyes, other shelves with jar's of colourful fluids, odd looking roots or weeds, Frogs and other amphibian floating in yellow and green water. Some dragon teeth were collected within a red glass jar. He knew there were some odd looking shapes like elves hand's and feet in yellow and blue liquid.

Well, just seeing the shape could scare someone. His sight went over the many chopped, diced and powdered contains in containers, he had. They were either fresh or dried, but nothing looked touched or moved.

With furrowed brow, he recognised the dirty cauldrons by the sink and the weird substance in them, which still switched colour constantly from a poisonous looking pink to a dark grey and back to pink.

Someone would not feel too comforting in his classroom, he was sure of that.

With a swish of his wand, the cauldrons were clean and put away on a certain shelf board just for cauldrons like these. Looking around closely, the professor was thinking as where the prankster could have gone – if he was correct and that someone was looking for something in particular. His sight fell on two hidden doors that looked like closet doors made of plain wood. There were no handles on either one.

Silently, he got up from the chair to walk gracefully over to the two doors and opened the one on his left. He looked into his private lab – but there was no hint that someone had crossed the age line he had drawn there to provide anybody going in there and have an accident.

Relieved, he realised the status spell on the small cauldron was still in place and the roses, he had placed on his work table, had not been moved or touched. Closing that door again, he was wondering if the intruder was looking for a certain rose. But before he could point deeper into that thought, he opened the other door – and stopped shocked on the threshold.

Speechless, he looked at the disaster in his private storage room.

The room was still giving off a blue light. In the middle, on the long table, the merman was still laying, the cover moved down to one side. The dead man was staring at him with wide open blue eyes.

The potions master moved into the mess of fallen and broken jars to draw the eyes closed of the merman and whisper softly at him: "My, Feldon, what have you done this time?" Then he covered the dead body with the cloth again.

Turning around, he looked at the mess around him on the floor. Shaking his head and sighing he guessed he couldn't really save the wriggling rattails or the still beating rabbit hearts. He banished both with a swish of his wand, silently. The sliced ermine he rescued, also the dog whelk nails, the bug scales, salamander tongues and the beauty-bee wings. Concerned, he checked the maggots and the polished rat eyes, which looked touched. Some of them were squeezed and the yucky smelling fluid had destroyed many other ones. Growling darkly, he sorted them and vanish the bad ones._ 'For Merlin's sake – I hope I never find the one who did this. I don't know what I'd do to him…' _ There were some things that came right into his mind the minute he thought about it.

Snarling he wondered where the intruder went. The door behind the merman that led into his private chambers was still closed. Mumbling to himself tiredly, he checked the door to his classroom once more, but it was also closed.

Remembering the disaster when he saw it, he wondered if there was one prankster or if there were more – it didn't really happen that the students tried to pull a prank on him. He almost felt pulled back in time to the era of the Marauders. Shuddering, he was relieved to know that James Potter never would come back, and Sirius Black was still safe in Azkaban – which made him think of Harry. Before drifting off in thoughts completely, he opened the door to his private rooms.

He almost tripped over something. He must have stepped on his cloak, which was lying on a chair in the small dark hallway. How could he have forgotten to hang it up? Wondering where he had had his thoughts this morning, he closed the door behind him, and stepped without turning the light on into his sitting room.

Harry had been waiting. He knew his Daddy would come home eventually. He wanted to see him, be close to him, snuggle up to him and feel save – he almost forgot that he lived in a different world now… "Daddy," he whispered when he saw the pale Potions Master step into the room.

With a movement of the Professor's hand, the fire in the hearth came to life and turned the room into a cosy warm light. Severus took his robe off and laid it on the arm chair next to his cloak.

His mind jumped in, something didn't feel right. Freezing his muscles, he stood still, touching the surroundings with his mind, feeling for a change.

"Daddy, I'm here, right here," he almost could touch him; he was so close, just so close.

Severus was sure he felt Harry's presence closely – but that wasn't what he was feeling for right now. He couldn't have tripped over his cloak – it was right here, next to him.

The wizard flicked his hand towards the candles on the wall, and within seconds he was standing in bright light. Looking in his small hallway, he discovered a little boy, clutching himself far into the dark corner, shaking with huge fearful eyes staring at him, but not making a sound.

"Daddy, this is Neville. You have to help us; Sir Frederick is lying to us. Please Daddy…"

"What the -" _'wait, this child is too young to be a student. It must be –'_ "- Neville?"

"Yes, Daddy, I just told you."

The small boy looked up at him. Severus lowered himself down to the child, and asked him carefully: "Neville, what are you doing here?"

"Sir Frederick made him to go in here and look for the rose. He said you want to kill me and Neville is suppose to feed the last leave to me – Daddy, Sir Frederick is the bad one – I don't want to be dead." He was sobbing by now. This was a bad game, and oh, how much he wanted to come home and be held by his Daddy!

But even this time, the Professor received no answer from the small boy. The Potions Master did not want to touch the panicked child and scare him more. The boy was watching his every move with dread eyes. But he needed to know what was going on here. Looking at the child he whispered softly: "Legilimens" and with a gentle move he slipped into the child's mind.

The boy's mind was like the child's body – paralyzed with fear. Very cautious, he looked around more and discovered the ghostly figure, the same he had seen in the memories of his Harry. Curious, he stayed around to look at them more closely to find out what happened and what to do. With disbelieve, he watched Neville's meeting with the shiny figure.

Carefully he slipped out and looked at the child, thinking about what he'd seen. _'The Amulet is glowing? My mother's amulet? Why? This flower must be greater than I thought. What power does it have when a ghost manipulates a child to find it?' _With big eyes, Neville was staring up into the potion master's face, scared of what would happen now.

"Daddy, did you go and meet Neville in his room? Does he have a green room too? Did he show you Sir Fredericks lie? Daddy, I love you."

But instead of blowing up or throw a fit, the potions professor pointed to a door across the door the children had come through and said, "Your grandmother is looking for you. She wants to leave. I will take you to Professor McGonagall's office. Come along now." He turned and walked out of the little hallway, waiting for Neville, who very slowly got up off the floor and followed him.

Nobody saw the ghostly figure which walked right next to Neville, hoping to find a way to talk to his Daddy.

- . -

"Neville, thank Merlin, Where have you been? We were all worried about you." Minerva shooed the little boy into her office, where they heard a small cry followed by some harsh words. The transfiguration professor closed the door quickly, turning to Severus with an apologizing look.

Harry grinned, he was glad Neville was back to where he belonged. He stood close to his Daddy, almost touching him. What would happen if he touched him…?

"Severus, where did you find him? Augusta was worried sick over the boy."

"He was in the potions classroom." For some kind of reason he didn't want to admit that he'd found the boy in his private chambers, even if Neville probably couldn't remember ever had stepped a foot into them. It wasn't even a lie. He child had been in his classroom…

But Minerva paid it no mind. Looking up and down the hallways on both sides, she kept on talking quietly. "Frank and Alice died last night. Augusta is completely shocked, and the doctors had told her before that there was no danger for them to pass because of their…"

_Neville's parents? Yes, I know, he had told me. Is he an orphan now, just like me? _Harry felt sympathy for the other boy.

Severus did not listen to the rest Minerva had to say. Suddenly it all fit. Right in front of his eyes, the puzzle was solved. He knew what he had to do.

"Minerva!" he interrupted the older lady, grabbed her hard on her arms to get her attention and spoke quietly so nobody could overhear his words. "Listen to me! Tell Mrs Longbottom to go into hiding. You must believe me, Minerva, this is dangerous. Tell her to disappear with the child and never come back!"

"Daddy?"

"But -" By the older lady's questioned look he shook his head, interrupting her.

"No, I can not tell you where I got this information from, but it is urgent. She must leave, Minerva. This is about life and death."

Harry looked puzzled. _Does Sir Frederick want to feed Neville the rose too?_

Minerva looked at him like he had lost all his marbles now. But he couldn't take it; he knew now what the headmaster had in mind… His face came real close to Minerva, and to a stranger it would've look like if he's threatened her but he spoke softly in her ear.

"Do it for Neville."

The transfiguration professor moved back a little and Severus let her go immediately. She looked at his face and seriously asked him: "You really mean it, don't you?"

The Potions Master did not turn away and let her search. "Yes, Minerva," he replied, "I do."

Her harsh face became soft. She laid a hand on his arm, squeezed lightly and turned away to open her office door. With one more nod in Severus' direction she went in to speak to Augusta.

Severus sighed. Yes, that's what he wanted. This had gotten urgent.

Harry was still standing next to his Dad-man. Slowly he moved his hand over to his Daddy's and touched him carefully. Before his fingers went through his Daddy's hand it felt like hitting a hindrance – just for a second it was as if he was holding his Daddy's hand. Closing his eyes, he remembered the soft heat of his Daddy's skin in his…

Severus stood there for a couple of minutes, feeling an odd tingle go over his back.

He turned with Harry by his side to go into the small room where dead Harry lay still on the stone table, with Poppy at his side.

She smiled at the Potions master and left him the chair she'd just sat on.

"Your turn," and with a knowing grin she left the room.


End file.
